Nowhere to Run, Nowhere to Hide, Nowhere to Go
by procrastin8or951
Summary: Set during and after "Teach Me Tonight." Jess contemplates everything as he sits on the bridge, waiting to figure out what he wants to do. What will happen when he goes back to New York? Jess-centric. Please review!
1. Chapter 1

It was cold. It had been a warm day, one that promised an early summer, but the night was freezing cold, guaranteeing that summer was not yet here. It was too cold to sit outside by a lake that had not yet felt the imminent warm days. And yet, that was exactly where Jess was that night, sitting on the cold, hard wood of the bridge.

He pulled his jacket tighter around him, trying to save at least a little body heat. He almost envied the warm red embers at the end of his cigarette, which he held in one shaking hand.

He didn't know how long he had been sitting there. He was too cold to move, by now, though he wouldn't have gone anywhere if he had been able to. There wasn't anywhere he could go.

_"You can do anything you wanted, you can be anything you wanted."_ He wanted to be warm, but that didn't seem to be an option. He wanted to have somewhere to go, but there wasn't anything he could do about that either.

It was a bit of a joke, really, him being anything he wanted. She was right, in a way, and he knew it. She was sure he knew it, even though he wouldn't admit it.

He was smart. He could tell just by the sheer number of idiots out there that he must be smart; otherwise all of them wouldn't seem quite so dumb.

He could probably do just about anything. She was right when she said he could ace all his classes without a problem. So why didn't he?

It was a good question, one he didn't know the answer to. He had given her that old excuse, about not seeing the point. _"I'm never going to college, why waste the time in high school?"_

But that wasn't it. It was more that he didn't see how knowing the date of D-Day was going to help him at all. He didn't see how knowing the difference between communism and socialism was going to make his mom want him. He couldn't see how being able to find the limit of an equation was going to make his dad come back.

So Rory was right, when she said he could do anything, be anything he wanted. The problem was he didn't really know what he wanted.

Really, the things he wanted weren't things anyone could give, no matter what. He wanted his mother to care about him, to not be so flaky as to send him off to live somewhere else because she didn't want to deal. He wanted her to call him sometimes to see how he was doing, to ask to see him sometimes. He wanted her to find a boyfriend who was good to her, and to Jess, instead of the losers she always found.

Luke tried to give him the things he needed, and Jess was grateful. He knew Luke lied at Christmas when he said it was him who had suggested Jess stay in Stars Hollow. Jess was sure that wasn't the case, but he appreciated the effort. He also knew Luke wanted him to go to school because it would be a hell of a lot easier for him to have a good life if he did. Jess appreciated that, too.

He felt guilty, though. Luke, for all his good points, did cause that. When someone tries to give you everything, it's hard not to feel guilty when you don't know what to do with it.

Jess was stuck, and not just on this bridge. He didn't know of anything he wanted that he could actually have.

He could think of one other thing he wanted, though. He wanted a home. He wanted a place where he could go and feel safe. A place where he wouldn't be anxious over his mother's boyfriends, or nervously awaiting persecution from the town that wished to drive him away with torches and pitchforks. But there was nowhere like that for him to go.

Just like there hadn't been anywhere he could go when that small furry thing had run out into the street. Jess wondered why he had bothered to swerve. He didn't care about the stupid animal, not really. It wasn't high on his list of priorities, at any rate. Maybe Rory cared. She seemed like the type who would.

She probably cared more about the car her boyfriend made for her, the one that he had sent careening into the bench with the Doose's market sign. She probably cared more about her wrist, which she held close to her, even though she insisted she was fine.

Rory insisted an awful lot of things, Jess had noticed. An awful lot of things that were too true.

_"You could do more."_ Yes, he certainly could. He could make a bigger impact than he had with his minor pranks. And he certainly had, by wrecking the car of Stars Hollow's princess and thus permanently branding himself as the town outcast.

He was pretty sure that wasn't what she meant. In fact, Jess was pretty sure that the only reason he had deflected that line of conversation and turned the questioning on Rory was that he knew how true that was, and the truth scared him.

He had some potential, he supposed. But it was hard to do much with it as a hoodlum kid who was raised by a single mother who would rather go out and get drunk with her newest loser boyfriend than help her kid with his homework or come get him when he was in a bad situation.

It wasn't fair of Rory to push that knowledge on him, not like that. It hurt, especially coming from her. Rory, who was going to Chilton and then to Harvard and would go on to live a perfectly comfortable life. She didn't understand what it was like growing up the way he had.

Rory would say it didn't make a difference, that it was his decisions now that mattered. The decisions he made were bad ones.

Leaving after the ambulance came was probably one of them. No one would understand that one. He had done everything he could think of, though. He had helped her out of the car, ignoring the way his own body ached and protested. He had taken her cell phone and called an ambulance, ignoring her insistence that she was fine.

_"Glad you think so," he said, as Rory said she was just fine once again. "Now someone with a medical degree can think so." _

He gave her his jacket, because after all, it was awfully cold out, and then they sat on the curb until the ambulance came.

He answered the questions from the police as she got into the ambulance. A paramedic gave him back his coat.

_"Aren't you coming?"_ she had asked. They were in this together, weren't they? If she had to go to the hospital, he should, too.

But he shook his head. He wouldn't, no, couldn't go. He hated hospitals, couldn't stand them.

Her worried face as the ambulance doors closed the last thing on his mind as he turned away and walked mindlessly away from the wreckage, the sound of crushing metal and screeching sirens overtaking his thoughts long after the lights of the ambulance had faded into the night.

He shouldn't have made her go on her own, he thought, but he couldn't go there. He couldn't go to the hospital and relive the times he had had to sit there in the halls, waiting to hear if his mother would be all right after her boyfriend beat her up.

It was so screwed up, the whole thing. He did everything he was able to, but it wasn't enough, and it never would be. And so he would be on the bus in the morning, back to New York where he would try to help his mother, but that wouldn't be enough either.

He lit another cigarette, his old one long extinguished. He took a long, shaky breath, and then held the cigarette in his hand, staring at it, thinking it was just one more bad decision.

Heavy footsteps fell on the end of the bridge, but Jess didn't look up. He was almost sure it was Luke, and if it wasn't…then it would be someone looking to hurt him, and maybe he deserved that.

The footsteps stopped next to him, and he looked at the familiar shoes. He couldn't bring himself to look up at his uncle.

"I made sure she was okay," he said slowly, deliberately, trying not to let his voice betray the fear he still felt from that one, heart-wrenching second he had looked over at Rory in the car, and her eyes were closed, the little shards of broken glass raining down from the window, from that moment before she opened her eyes when his heart stopped for a second because he thought hers had for good.

"I know you did," Luke said, not sounding angry, and the guilt hit Jess again, harder this time.

He didn't want to go back to New York, but he deserved it. He didn't deserve to stay here with Luke, because he didn't deserve the nice things Luke did, or the happiness he got from talking to Rory.

Luke sat down next to him as he took another drag from his cigarette. "You okay?"

Jess ignored the question because he didn't know how to answer it. "Can I go back to New York?"

"Is that what you want?" Another question he couldn't answer.

Jess shivered and pulled his knees up to his chest.

"Jess…Let's go back to the apartment to talk, okay?" Luke suggested gently. Jess ignored that, too.

"I think they would rather I went back," he said.

"Who?" It was a good question, but not one he wanted to answer. He didn't want to have to tell Luke that most everyone in Stars Hollow wished he would leave, and probably most people in the neighboring towns as well. The only people who didn't want him to go back were his mother and whatever boyfriend she had acquired since he left.

"Is it okay if I go?" he asked instead.

"I'm not going to stop you," Luke began. "If that's what you want to do, I won't stop you. But I will tell you, I think you'll miss this place."

"It's what I want," Jess said softly, though it was a lie, though he really wanted anything but to go back to New York.

Luke stood up. "Then I'll call your mom and let her know. You ready to go in?"

Jess shook his head. "Not yet."

"Don't be too long," Luke said, and he walked away, leaving Jess with his thoughts.

And oddly enough, all he could think was that he didn't want to leave, not yet. He didn't want to leave Luke and the diner, didn't want to leave the town, and mostly didn't want to leave Rory. But he would do it anyway. Because he always did that, did what seemed easier. It was easier to give up than to do what he wanted.

"_You could do anything you wanted."_ But he wouldn't.


	2. Chapter 2

The bus rumbled to a halt, the doors opening with a long sigh to let in chilly, early morning air and exactly two new passengers. The doors swung closed, and with a quiet moan the bus lurched forward, finally leaving Stars Hollow.

Jess slid a little lower in his seat and shoved his hands into his pockets. It was just his luck that the bus' heat was broken. Maybe he was destined to spend the rest of his life being cold.

When he had climbed up the steps onto the bus that morning, the elderly bus driver had sized him up with a wary look. The old man didn't even know him, and yet he was already sure Jess was a troublemaker. The guy had probably driven school buses at some point, and probably recognized Jess as the sort of kid who sat in the very back and scared the little kids. And who was Jess to tell the guy he was wrong? He went and sat in the very back.

He turned to look out of the rear window of the bus, gazing at the town through the dim light of the sun that barely crept over the horizon and just managed to give enough light as to make the shapes of the buildings vaguely recognizable.

Jess thought about how he had seen Stars Hollow his first day there. He recalled stepping out of the diner to see little kids doing cartwheels in the town square, people talking and smiling, looking completely carefree. He remembered thinking that this must be what hell was like.

But it wasn't really. Hell was what he was going back to. He hadn't wanted to move to Stars Hollow, had thought it would be horrible. But he was wrong, and he would admit it, but only to himself.

When he had returned to the apartment the previous night, he had closed the door silently, listening carefully to Luke. His uncle was on the phone, most likely with his mother, judging by his annoyed tone.

From what Jess could gather, his mother didn't want him to come back. He didn't think she would.

Jess shook his head, pulled a book from his duffel bag. He wouldn't worry about his mother until he had to. In the mean time, he would seek refuge in a book, in a few hundred pages of wonderful relief from his own life.

He had to squint at the pages in the darkness of early morning, but as time passed, the sun became bolder, and soon he had no trouble making out the words carefully woven to take him to a different time.

The old bus squeaked in pain, and Jess looked up, surprised to find that it was almost time for him to get off. He carefully placed his book back in his bag.

At the next stop, he made his way to the door, not stopping to apologize to the guy he bumped into on his way down the bus aisle. No one apologizes for stuff like that in New York.

He stood on the sidewalk for a moment, just looking around. The other people bustled past him purposefully. He had forgotten that about New York. Everyone knew where they were going.

He glanced at his watch. It was almost noon. He ought to be hungry, but he wasn't. Instead, a knot had settled into his stomach, and it only grew as he turned and began the familiar walk to his mother's apartment.

The building was old, that much was clear. It hadn't had a lot of upkeep, and that was as obvious as its age. Jess climbed the creaking stairs, futilely wishing that the aged wood didn't signal his presence quite so loudly.

Third floor, on the right, and there it was: the door with the peeling paint and a number missing. He reluctantly raised his fist and knocked twice.

The door opened a crack, and Jess saw a bleary eye peer out at him, blinking. "Whaddya want?" a rough voice demanded.

"Is Liz there?" Jess asked.

"Yeh. What do you care?"

"I'm her son. Let me in, would ya?" Jess said, the annoyance creeping its way into his voice. The man only blinked at him stupidly. "Open the door," Jess commanded.

Ordering him around seemed to work, as the man stepped back and pulled the door open a bit further. Once inside, Jess took a moment to size up the man. Overweight, with thinning hair and shabby clothes. Another great choice on the part of his mother.

"Who's at the door?" a female voice called from the next room.

"Some kid," the man yelled back. He glared at Jess.

"A kid?" Liz asked, wandering into living room. "Jess!" She ran and threw her arms around him. Jess awkwardly put an arm around her, but let go quickly.

"Oh, I'm so glad you're here!" his mother said, letting go of his shoulders and grabbing his hand. "I want you to meet my boyfriend." She turned to beam at the man. "This is Greg."

"Huh." He didn't care to respond much more than that. "I'm gonna put my stuff in my room." He turned and walked through the dusty living room to the closed door of his old room.

Surprisingly, the room was the same as it had been when he left. Granted, a lot of his stuff was missing, but the bed was still there, the desk, the stacks of books were still present.

Jess closed his bedroom door behind him and dropped his bag on his bed. A cloud of dust rose from the old mattress.

"Home, sweet home," he muttered cynically. He forced himself not to think of his bed back at Luke's.

He grabbed his book out of the top of his bag and left his room again. He walked past his mother and Greg, who sat on the couch.

"Where are you going?" his mother asked.

"Out." He slammed the door behind him.


	3. Chapter 3

Heat radiated from the pavement as he wended his way through the throng of people. It wasn't summer yet in Stars Hollow, but the suffocating heat had already hit New York, and it was merciless.

Jess found himself in Washington Square Park. He wasn't quite sure what he was doing there, except that it was where he had always gone.

He found a bench and sat down to read.

It was not long after this that he realized he should have brought a second book. He turned to the last page of the novel. It ended well, in his opinion. He wrote some thoughts in the empty space at the bottom of the page.

With nothing left to do, he closed the book and looked up. There was a woman jogging past on the dirt path, a medium-sized dog trailing her on a leash.

He remembered when he was six he had begged his mother for a dog. What kid hadn't done that? It bothered him a bit that he had done something so common.

His mother hadn't given him the speech about responsibility that every other kid got, though. He still remembered her words. _"I already have too much trouble, keeping up with you. I don't need the extra work."_

Jess hadn't thought he was much trouble at all. He walked to school with the other kids in their building. He came home. He did his homework and he read his books. He didn't think he was in the way. But apparently, he was.

He scowled and shook his head, refusing to think about that. He looked over to see a little boy tugging on his father's hand. The man laughed and scooped the kid up, placing him on his shoulders. The kid laughed, as though he was on top of the world.

Jess felt a pang of sadness. His own father had left when he was a baby. He never got carried around on his father's shoulders. Experiences like that were for kids whose fathers wanted them.

He stood up and started walking, though he was unsure where he was going. He walked around, purposefully, though he didn't have an actual purpose.

He briefly considered buying a hot dog. He hadn't eaten all day, and he knew he should be hungry. But he wasn't, so he kept walking.

_Wonder what Rory is doing right now._ She was probably with her mother, getting ready for the annual movie night. Stupid small town stuff.

It was getting dark now, so he started back in the general direction of his mother's apartment. It wasn't his. He didn't have a home here.

The hallways of the building were deserted when he got there. He slowly walked up the steps, opened the door to the apartment. She really shouldn't leave it unlocked, but she did so often.

"Jess!" Liz called, happily. "Good. Greg and I are going out."

"Huh." Jess took in the way Greg's hands traveled all over his mother, and he looked away, disgusted.

"We'll be back later. There's food in the fridge, if you get hungry."

He grunted and walked into his room, closing the door behind him. But the door didn't block out the next words.

"What's wrong with your kid?" Greg asked.

"I don't know," Liz replied. Another pang of sadness. His mother didn't stand up for him.

"He should treat you better." He was one to talk, the way he leered at her.

The apartment door closed with a snap, and Jess was left alone. The way he liked it.

At least, it was the way he preferred it. He wouldn't necessarily say that he liked not having anyone. But he preferred loneliness to the company he was often forced to keep.

Jess pulled a book from his shelf and sat on the end of his bed, opening it. His own handwriting already inscribed many of the pages. He began to read again, adding a few more thoughts to each page.

Total darkness settled outside his window, but the sounds of the city never ceased. That was one thing about New York; there was always something going on.

Loud laughter pulled Jess from his thoughts and alerted him to the fact that his mother had returned. His mother had always been a happy drunk. At first.

"Do you want beer?" her voice asked, much too loud.

"Yeh." Real intelligent one she had picked this time.

The sound of bottles being uncapped, clinked together. He went back to his book, trying to ignore it.

"Where's Jess?" Liz's voice brought him back to the present. "Jess?!" He ignored her calling. "Jess!"

He opened the door and went into the living room. "Yeah?"

"Where you been?" Greg's voice held a hint of aggression. Hint being a relative term, considering drunken people were generally incapable of being anything less than very loud, very aggressive, very much whatever they were.

"In my room," Jess replied.

"Your room? Your room? Who d'ya think pays rent here? Nothing here is yours," Greg said loudly, stumbling to his feet.

Jess didn't say anything.

"Why don't you talk, huh? You too stupid to talk?"

"No."

"No what?"

Jess didn't say anything.

"No, sir, that's what!" Greg declared. "You call me 'sir.'"

"I don't think I do," Jess replied.

"Jess…" his mother slurred. "Be nice t' Greg…"

"Thass right. Wouldn' want t' have t' send you away, would we?" Greg said.

Jess turned away, back toward his room.

"You look at me when I talk t' you!" Greg roared. Jess looked over his shoulder.

"Things is gonna be different round here, now that I live here," Greg began. "An' you're jus' gonna hafta live with it!"

"Is that all?" Jess asked, coldly. He didn't wait for a response before he stomped back to his room and slammed the door. He locked it quickly and sank down to the floor, his back against the bed, just as Greg began to pound on the door.

Jess put his head in his hands, closed his eyes, tried to block it out. Another angry drunk. He'd seen enough of them in his life, already. He hoped against hope that Greg wasn't also violent. He hoped this relationship wouldn't end in the same way they all did.

He tried not to remember the last boyfriend Liz had had. The one who had been over six feet tall, who weighed twice what Jess did. The one who felt it was his job to introduce Jess to pain, to 'make sure he wouldn't be a wimp.'

Jess wrapped his arms around his legs, hugging his knees to his chest. He hoped Greg wouldn't hurt Liz, either. He hoped there would be no fights, no hospital visits.

Greg apparently tired of banging on Jess' door, because the pounding stopped. Jess listened carefully for any hint of discord between his mother and Greg, but couldn't hear anything. In fact, it wasn't too long before he heard loud snoring, and knew the man had passed out.

Jess pulled himself onto his bed, squirming to get off of the spring that dug into his back. He rolled onto his side, though the bruises from the accident hurt worse that way. He turned out the light and lay still.

He stared out the window at the sky, tinged orange with the lights of the city. He couldn't sleep.

And to think, he had once called this place 'home.'


	4. Chapter 4

Jess woke with a start the next morning. He took a deep breath and looked at his watch. Almost eight. He thought about school for a second, then pushed the idea from his mind. It was pointless.

He stood and stretched, glancing down at yesterday's clothes, rumpled by sleep. He up-ended his bag and dug through the pile of stuff to find some clean clothes, which where equally wrinkled. He then headed for the bathroom.

After he showered and dressed, he crept from the bathroom, casting a cautious glance toward his mother's room, where she and Greg were no doubt still asleep.

Empty beer bottles littered the living room floor as well as the kitchen counter. Sighing, he picked them up and put them in the trash. As he did so, he noticed the phone, or, more specifically, the red light flashing, alerting him to the fact that there was a message on the machine. He pushed the button, and quickly turned the volume down, hoping the sound wouldn't wake his mother and her boyfriend.

"Hey Jess, Liz, it's Luke. I just wanted to make sure Jess got home all right, and that everything was going okay…Yeah, that's about it. So, I guess… Oh, and I'll send your stuff soon, Jess, don't worry about that. Right. Okay, bye."

Jess erased the message, then left the apartment. He knew he wouldn't call back. Not because he wanted Luke to worry. He didn't. But because he didn't want to talk to Luke. He didn't want to have to lie when Luke asked him how he was, didn't want to have to pretend he wanted to be here. It was easier this way.

Jess followed another familiar path through the city, coming to a halt across the street from a large, somewhat dilapidated building. Teenagers gathered around the front steps, going through the heavy metal doors in groups.

It had been a year since he had set foot in that school. A year was a hell of a long time, and yet it was almost no time at all. It was a long time to be away from his friends. It was a short time to be in Stars Hollow.

He watched a group of guys about his age laughing and joking, flirting with some girls. They seemed so carefree. It made Jess feel old, somehow. He couldn't remember being that happy.

It was his mother's fault, he thought bitterly. If he didn't have to watch out for her, if she hadn't found him too difficult to deal with…

"Mariano? Is that you?" Jess turned to look at a tall teenager in a black leather jacket. "Hey, man! Haven't seen you in forever!"

"Hey." Jess wasn't sure what else to say. This boy, Mark, had been a good friend of his, a year ago.

"Where ya been, man?" Mark asked, raising one eyebrow.

"Around." The truth was too embarrassing.

"Listen, we should hang out, you know? Everyone's getting together tonight, at nine. In the old place. You know it?" Mark asked. Jess nodded. "You'll come?"

"I guess," Jess muttered.

"Great! Listen, I've got to go, but I'll see you." And with that, Mark turned and walked quickly toward the high school.

Jess stared after him. He didn't remember Mark as being that excitable, nor so annoying. He recalled Mark as being quieter, more solemn, though he did draw a strange sort of energy from some of their more brilliant schemes. How things did change.

He wasn't sure he wanted to see everyone again. If they had all changed as much as Mark, he knew he didn't.

On the other hand, he had nothing better to do, and it could be fun. If nothing else, it was a reason not to be at his mother's apartment. When he considered that, Jess realized that it was that very thing that was the inspiration for most of the things he had done a year ago, the things that got him sent to stay with his uncle in the first place. Not that that would stop him.

So when it was nearly nine, Jess found himself wandering in the general direction of his old high school, turning left about a block away from it, and climbing the fire escape of a ramshackle old apartment building. He tapped lightly on window of the fourth floor, and it slid open, allowing him to duck inside.

Jess found himself blinking to get his eyes to adjust to the darkness, as well as to protect them from the stale, smoky air.

"Hey, Jess!" Mark said excitedly from somewhere off to the left.

"Hey," Jess said shortly. The room slowly came into focus and he looked around.

Not much had changed, at least not in an obvious way. A muscular blond guy and a small, dark-haired guy lazed on the collapsed couch. Mark sat against the wall on the opposite side of the room, grinning at Jess.

"Jess. Finally escape?" The blond guy asked, slowly.

"Yeah, Josh."

"So you're back for good?" asked the small guy quickly.

"Don't be stupid, Seth," Josh said.

"What are we doing tonight?" Mark asked, changing the subject quickly.

"There's a rave a few blocks away," Seth said, glancing at Jess somewhat nervously. "We could check it out."

Josh nodded. "I'm game."

"Sure."

Jess merely grunted. Someone handed him a cigarette and he lit it, inhaling deeply.

They headed out, following Seth through numerous twists and turns until they came to an old warehouse. Jess could feel the pounding of the music from outside; the whole building seemed to pulse with it.

They each paid about five dollars, and then they were inside. The music filled Jess' ears, surrounding him and nearly crushing him. The lights throbbed with it, causing his eyes to ache as well.

He pushed his way through the crowd, until he found a space a little further from the speakers. He spotted a cooler and snagged a few beers, passing them to Seth and Mark; Josh had disappeared.

Jess grabbed a bottle for himself, using the window sill to pop the cap off. The last time he had done that, it had been on the Gilmores' porch, and Lorelai had caught him. He stared into the bottle for a minute, then let it sit loosely in his hand, unwilling to take a drink.

He could make out a blond head bobbing through the crowd, and then Josh was with them.

"Here!" Josh yelled over the music, handing something to Mark, then Seth, then reaching his hand towards Jess.

Jess stared at the pills in Josh's hand, and he hesitated. A year ago, he probably would have taken it. He wasn't a druggie, but he wasn't completely against using once in a while. The key being once in a while. He had forgotten how much Josh used.

He thought suddenly of what Luke would say, if he saw him here. Luke, who had called to make sure he was okay, who tried to keep him safe.

Jess shook his head, eliciting a confused look from his former friends.

"Why not, man?" Seth asked, looking a little edgy. "Not a narc now, are you?"

Jess shook his head again, turned, and walked out into the night.


	5. Chapter 5

He walked through streets that were surprisingly empty, just walked, slowly, carefully, as though one false move would send him sailing off the edge of the earth.

It was confusing, so confusing. A year ago and now, he seemed to be two different people. Maybe this was what an identity crisis was. All he knew was that he wanted to keep sight of both of him, until he figured out which he was.

He tossed the bottle of beer, still full, into an alley as he passed. He wanted it, wanted to feel his muscles loosen, feel his hold on reality slip a little, to just give him some piece. He needed the control more, though. He needed his reality to be clearly defined, sharp at the edges, no room for a slip.

He hated that he hadn't been able to just take the stupid drugs. They would have given him a release from his sharply defined prison of a reality, a blessed, glorious release.

Jess remembered Rory telling him he was part of the town. His adamant denial, "I am _not_ part of this town!" But he was.

People in Stars Hollow didn't go to raves, didn't experiment with drugs. And now, apparently, neither did he.

But he wasn't in Stars Hollow. He was in New York. There are things people do in New York that they don't do anywhere else, and there's a reason for it. In Stars Hollow, it was fine to walk around aimlessly. Do that in New York and you're liable to get mugged.

He couldn't act the way he would in Stars Hollow, not while living in New York.

_Living._ What a joke. This wasn't living. This was lifeless existence, trapped forever with his own mistakes and shortcomings.

It was an existence of avoidance. Avoiding the truth, avoiding the consequences. He was good at running away.

He came to a halt outside his mother's building. He stared up at it, counting up floors, across windows, seeing the one for his mother's apartment still lit. He didn't want to go in there. He didn't want to deal.

He slowly began the ascent of the creaking stairs, returning the glares of other tenants who poked their heads out of their own apartments to express their annoyance at his presence.

He took the rusty door knob in his hand, twisted it, pushed, ready to run away from the scene inside, to seek solace in a book, to avoid the situation altogether.

"Jess! Jess, where have you been? I was so worried about you!" his mother cried, throwing herself into his arms, the scent of alcohol almost making him dizzy.

"Just with some friends," he replied, choosing to ignore the fact that he had often heard the same words when he hadn't left the apartment. He didn't comment that he had heard those words in messages on Luke's answering machine when he came in at night. Didn't mention that every time he had heard them he had said, "I'm right where you told me to be, Liz. If you were so worried, you would have remembered." The words tasted bitter, unseasoned because he refused to cry, though the salt of tears stung at his eyes and burned the back of his throat.

She let him go, staggering back to sit on the couch, her eyes huge and sad. She was always a sad drunk, later. He hated to see her like this.

"Worried your mother, you did, boy!" Greg growled, setting his empty beer bottle down in the sink a little too hard. The glass smashed, scraping down the edges of the sink, across the bottom, coming to rest at the bottom.

Jess stood, silent. He wanted to go into his room, but instinctively he knew that was a bad idea.

"Where were you, huh?" Greg asked, popping the cap of another beer.

"With friends," Jess said softly, eyes carefully tracking the man's movements.

"Bullshit. Where were you really? A party? Doing drugs?" Greg snarled, taking a few steps forward so that he stood too close, towering over Hess. "Don't you lie to me," he breathed.

Jess shook his head. Greg roughly gripped his shoulder. "Answer me, boy!" he roared.

"I was with friends." Greg shoved him, hard, slamming Jess' back against the wall.

Regaining his balance, Jess took a step forward, then slowly began to edge around the large man, anxious to get away.

"Well, boy? Tell the truth now!"

"Greg, it's okay," Liz said softly.

"You stay out of this!" Greg yelled.

_Don't, don't, don't…_ and thankfully, Greg didn't.

Jess was standing with his back to the door of his room. He took a step back.

"Answer me!" the man hollered. Jess took a few more steps back, feeling for the door knob behind him.

It twisted quickly, letting him slip in and slam the door shut, sliding the lock just before Greg got to where Jess had been standing.

Jess stood in the center of the room for a moment, listening to the yelling from the other side of the door. Pounding the door again, smashing another beer bottle. Greg was a violent drunk, too. Of course. His mother sure could pick them.

He could feel the bruises forming across his back, but he put that thought to the side. There were more important things.

It was only a matter of time, he knew, before the real violence would come out. Probably directed at him. Only a matter of time after that before it would be directed at Liz.

He needed to think of a way to make this better. Needed a way to fix this whole situation.

It was amazing what alcohol did to people. Thinking back, he didn't even remember why he had wanted that beer.


	6. Chapter 6

_Jess gripped the steering wheel tightly, knuckles turning white, hands aching as he stomped on the brakes. The car ignored this, careening onward towards huge stone walls that sprang up from the asphalt every few feet. _

_He wrenched the wheel to the right, but the car swerved left, the right side mirror getting knocked off by the edge of a barrier. The wheel spun crazily under his sweaty palms, oblivious to his commands. _

_"Jess! Jess, stop!" Rory screamed from next to him. He looked over at her, her face pale with fear as she tightly gripped the handle on the door. _

_"I can't!" he exclaimed, wrestling with the wheel once more. _

_"You can do anything you wanted!" she cried. _

_A sickening crunch, a huge impact, and he was thrown forward against his seatbelt before the airbag deployed, leaving him winded. _

_"Hoodlum…"_

_"Hooligan…"_

_"Bad influence…" _

_"No!" Jess yelled, gasping for breath, flinging the car door open and stumbling out. _

_But this, this wasn't Stars Hollow. It was New York. Against their will, he and Rory had ended up in New York..._

_"Rory!" He rushed around the car to pry open her door. As the door she was leaning on moved, she fell over, out of the seat, into Jess' arms. "Rory." _

_Pale skin, dark hair fanned out across his arm, eyes closed, delicate features relaxed. "Rory. Wake up. You have to wake up. Rory! Rory!" he shouted. She didn't respond. "Please, Rory, please, please wake up. Rory!" he begged, feeling the panic rise in his chest. _

_"Hoodlum…"_

_"Hooligan…"_

_"Bad influence…"_

_"Please, Rory, please wake up. Don't die, please don't!" _

_"You could do more…" _

_"What? What do I do? I don't know what to do!" _

_And then it was too late. _

_"Rory! No…" _

"No!" Jess exclaimed, sitting up in bed, his books slipping off the bed to land on the floor with a dull thud. The darkness around him worried him for a moment, as though he might still be in that nightmare. As his eyes adjusted though, he could make out the desk, the stacks of books, the walls that neatly confined his world. "Just a dream," he breathed.

Glancing at his watch, he realized it was not yet even five in the morning. He lay back again, closing his eyes to try to sleep.

Fifteen minutes later he gave up. It was impossible.

After he showered and dressed, he silently slipped out of the apartment, not even bothering to leave a note. No one would care where he was, anyway.

The last thing he saw before closing the door behind him was the blinking red of the answering machine, the little digital two that told him that someone, probably Luke, had called twice. He closed the door, separating himself from the caring words he knew were recorded there.

New York definitely had a night life, but even such a big city didn't have much of an early morning life. All the stores Jess walked past were closed, the dark windows showing him only his own reflection.

A homeless man moved out of the shadows to stand in his path. He looked pathetic standing there in layers upon layers of ratty shirts and jackets, faded jeans that were worn through at the knees.

"Please, do you have any money? Something for food?" the man asked. Jess credited this question only with a quick shake of his head and stepped around the guy.

Money. That was going to be an issue, he supposed. His job at the diner hadn't paid much, but it had been enough. He had no source of income, anymore. He'd have to find a new job.

When he reached the park, he flopped down on the bench, then winced as his bruised back came in contact with the hard wood of back rest. Shaking it off, he pulled his book from his pocket and flipped it open to the first page.

A new book for him, something he had never read. Something Rory had suggested.

He immersed himself in the book until the noise of the other people in the park reached a level that indicated that life in New York had once again begun.

Jess stood up, placing the book back in his pocket. He left the park, but instead of heading in the direction of the apartment and his school, he turned the other way.

He walked seven blocks before he found something interesting: a small record store. When he pushed the door open, a bell jingled tiredly, as though it had done so a million times too many. The wood floor felt as though it gave a little under him as he stepped into the store, as if it had been supporting the weight of thousands for years. Old and worn in, but still strong. It was somewhat dark in the store, though sunlight filtered through the front windows to puddle on the floor, allowing the store to keep it, hold the light in.

Jess veered to the right, turning his back to the cashier's desk, to look at the records on the shelf there next to the door.

Flipping through them, he felt a hint of comfort at the familiar titles, a twinge of intrigue at the unknown ones.

"Can I help you?" a voice asked, and Jess looked over his shoulder.

"No."

"All right," an elderly man said, taken aback by the curtness of the response. "If you have any questions, just ask."

Jess didn't respond, just moved to the next group of records. He slowly, methodically made his way through the store, finding that though they carried old records, they also had CDs.

He took his time looking through everything, making mental notes, thinking through the holes in his own collection.

"How are we doing?" the old man asked from just behind him, and Jess turned to look at him, a little surprised, though determined not to show it.

"Fine."

"Are you sure I can't help you with anything? You've been here for quite a long time," the man said, smiling a little, blue eyes twinkling from behind his glasses.

"Just looking," Jess said, slightly defensively.

"Music lover, huh? I can always tell. The real music lovers take their time going through each record. Are you interested in music?"

"You could say that," Jess said, turning back to the CDs.

"Maybe you'd like to consider filling out an application for a job here?" Jess looked back at the man, slowly.

"A job."

"Yes. Just minding the store for a few hours each day. Plus, you get a thirty percent employee discount," the man informed him happily.

"Huh."

"Can't hurt to fill out an application, can it?"

"Okay." Jess almost laughed at the expression of surprise on the old man's face at having convinced him so quickly, but then he set his jaw, refusing to even smile.

He was handed a single paper, the application, which he filled out rapidly, enjoying the look of his own neat handwriting filling each blank.

"Thank you, er…" the man glanced down at the paper Jess handed him. "Jess. We'll call and let you know."

Jess nodded, and turned to leave.

"You didn't want to buy anything?" the man asked, a little perplexed.

"No. Just looking," Jess said, opening the door and returning to the hard, unforgiving concrete of sidewalk and the relentless heat of summer.


	7. Chapter 7

Two days later, the phone rang in the late evening. Jess heard it faintly, over the sound of the TV and his mother and Greg's laughter, through the closed door of his room.

Someone moved to the phone, shuffling through the mess of junk that had accumulated on the floor of the living room.

"Hello?" Greg answered. "What for?"

"Who is it, baby?" his mother asked sweetly, and Jess scowled, though she couldn't see him.

"Dunno. Wants to talk to the kid. Jess!" he yelled.

Vaguely surprised, Jess set his book aside and stood up, leaving his room to take the phone.

He crossed the living room, then held out his hand for the phone. A long moment passed before Greg reluctantly handed it over.

"Hello?" Jess said into the receiver, turning his back to Greg, trying achieve at least a little privacy.

"Hello, Jess Mariano?"

"Yes."

"This is James Burnell from the record store. I'm calling in regards to your application…"

"Yes?" Jess said, anxiously.

"If you're still interested, we would like to hire you to work here part-time," Burnell said. "You are still interested, correct?"

"Yes," Jess said, then shot a look at Greg who hovered over him, and edged away a bit.

"Good. When can you start?" Burnell asked briskly.

"Anytime."

"Monday morning, at ten?"

"Yes."

"Excellent! I'll see you then! Goodbye," James Burnell said happily.

"Bye." Jess carefully hung up the phone.

"Who was that?" Greg demanded the moment the phone was in the cradle.

"No one."

"Tell the truth, boy," Greg growled, taking a step forward. His eyes were bloodshot, and Jess was forced to step back as the stench of marijuana and alcohol hit him.

"A guy from a record store," he said, setting his jaw.

"What did you do?" Greg almost yelled.

"Nothing!" Jess exclaimed.

"Bull! What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything!" Jess yelled back. Greg's eyes narrowed and he took another step forward, raising his hand and striking Jess across the face.

Jess was knocked back a bit, but regained his footing quickly, refusing to show even that little bit of weakness.

"Don't you talk to me like that," Greg hissed, his voice low and menacing. Jess just glared. "Why the hell is a record store calling you?"

"I got a job," Jess said, still glaring. Then a fist came out of nowhere and impacted just to the side of his left eye, causing stars to explode before his eyes and sending him reeling back into the kitchen counter. Reaching out to grab hold of something to catch himself, Jess broke one of the many beer bottles, the glass crushing beneath his hand, little fragments sinking into his skin. "Damn! What the hell?"

"Don't lie to me!" Greg roared, grabbing Jess by the wrist and forcibly moving him to the more open area of the living room.

"Greg…" his mother mumbled feebly, too drunk or high or whatever the hell she was to help Jess.

"Let go!" Jess demanded, trying to pull free. Greg tightened his grip on Jess' wrist, nearly to the point of breaking something. Greg then grabbed Jess' free arm to make him even more captive.

"You listen to me," he snarled. "If you ever lie to me again, so help me, I'll –"

"I didn't lie!" Jess said from between gritted teeth. Greg twisted one of Jess' arms behind him, still keeping the other in a secure grip. He jerked on Jess' arm until he thought it would come out of the socket.

"Don't interrupt me, either!" he bellowed. Jess remained silent, clenching his teeth against the pain. Greg made a disgusted sound and threw Jess from him. "Get back to your room."

Jess slowly picked himself up, slowly walked to his room, where he closed and locked the door.

"Damn it!" he gasped, dropping onto the edge of his bed, cradling his hurt arm against his chest. The shoulder felt as though it was beginning to swell, bruises were already starting to show on both wrists, matching the one he could feel forming across his lower back where it had struck the counter. His eye ached and stung whenever he blinked.

But the most pressing problem was his hand, which was bleeding profusely. He had read once that hands always bled more, because of all the tiny veins required to give them such dexterity. But his hand was bleeding a hell of a lot, the red pooling in his palm the sliding down his arm; dripping from the tips of his fingers to dot the knee of his jeans in little circles, perfectly shaped, as though they were trying to provide some order to something that was too chaotic to deal with.

Jess found an old T-shirt and wrapped it around his hand, watching the red soak through slowly.

"Damn it…" he said again, softer this time, as he sat, holding the T-shirt to his hand. Even as he said it, though, the pain was starting to lessen, his body accepting it as though it was just one more piece of the whole, something that belonged.

Even after almost a year away, his life was exactly the same as when he left. Still day after day of a place he didn't want to be, a house he couldn't call home, and a woman he could barely call "mother."

His life in Stars Hollow was already fading into his memory as something more akin to a dream than to actuality, a scene so foreign and brief that he could hardly believe it had been real.


	8. Chapter 8

_He held her in his arms, her head against his shoulder as he edged through the crowd. Her breath tickled his neck, each exhale saying that she was still alive. _

_"Someone, help us, please!" Jess yelled to the general vicinity, glancing desperately around at the throng of people walking past. "Please…"_

_They walked past faster, a flood and he was trying to go against it, fighting the current. His shoulder was hurting more and more with each step, the weight of her body straining the already overtaxed muscles. His back ached; his chest throbbed with each breath. _

_"Somebody, please, help!" he shouted again. _

_A man in a heavy coat and a hat looked up, meeting his eyes. "Hoodlum," he spat, and Jess recognized him as one of his mother's ex-boyfriends. _

_"Hooligan," another man said, another of his mother's exes. _

_"Bad influence," another shouted. _

_The whole crowd was made of them, all men who had no good wishes for Jess, circling up around him as he held Rory tighter in his arms, desperate to help her recover from the car accident he caused. _

_A sharp shove came from the side and he stumbled, falling to the ground, where Rory slipped from his arms. She lay still on the pavement, relaxed, unconscious. _

_Jess scrambled to his feet and hurried to her side. "Rory!" _

_A large hand grasped his shoulder and hauled him away from her, and Jess was turned to face the man the hand belonged to, before the man's other hand formed a fist that smashed into his jaw, knocking him backwards again. _

_He stumbled into another man who punched him in the chest, before a third shoved him to the ground. Jess remained on his knees, turning back to where Rory was. _

_But she wasn't there. There was no sign of her, just many, many feet of the men who wished to harm him, one boot pulling back, then coming closer and closer before he could stop it. It slammed into his side and he cursed, drawing his body up into a small ball, trying to protect himself from the blows that rained down on top of him, even as his world went fuzzy at the edges. _

_"Rory…"_

The first thing Jess was aware of was the ache and sting of his eye as his eyes opened to stare at the ceiling. The second was the throbbing pain in his shoulder, matched with the twinges of hurt in his wrists that kept time with his pulse.

Sunlight streamed in through the slats in the blinds, but he made no move to get up. He moved one arm slightly to check his watch. It was after nine. And yet, he still felt exhausted.

To hell with it, Jess thought, sitting up quickly, despite the pain. He wasn't going to sit around in the apartment all day.

He got ready and grabbed a couple books, then walked into the living room. Today, he didn't bother cleaning up. It wasn't his mess, after all.

Spying the blinking light of the answering machine, Jess pressed the button, wary.

"Hey Jess, it's Luke. I just wanted to –" _Beeeep._ Deleted.

"Hey, it's Luke. I'm calling to see if Jess –" _Beeeep._ Deleted.

"Hi, it's Lu –" _Beeeep._ Deleted. The answering machine fell silent, having done its duty of at least informing him there had been calls.

Jess left the apartment, door banging shut behind him. Outside the building, he stood for a moment, unsure of where exactly he should go.

Not too far, he knew that much. The park was a bit farther than he would have liked, especially today. But there weren't many other quiet places to read.

There was a place, a long time ago, behind the high school, where he and his friends would go to hang out when they cut class. They always stood around, or sat on the low ledge behind the back building of the high school, smoking and planning their next great scheme. He distinctly remembered enjoying the quiet of the space, though it was a source of great suspicion to Seth, always the paranoid one, who thought the silence probably meant the police were about to swoop in on them and bust them for something.

A thought occurred to Jess, as he started walking. He knew his eye was blackened with bruises, and yet, no one gave him a second glance. In Stars Hollow, people would have stopped to openly stare, stage-whispering the rumors of how he got such a shiner. Neither group was friendly, but it was odd that the New Yorkers didn't seem to notice at all.

To get to the back building, Jess had to walk right past the high school, past the row of windows on the ground floor. Glancing in the windows as he passed, he nearly laughed at the rows upon rows of bored expressions he saw.

Behind the school, around the next building, and there was the place, exactly as he remembered. Maybe even a little better, because there seemed to be fewer cigarette butts littering the pavement.

He sat on the ledge that ran perpendicularly to the building, resting his back against the wall, and pulling out his book.

Jess read in peace for a while, until the sounds of footsteps and voices reached his ears. _Just ignore it, _he told himself. _Whoever it is will go away_.

"Jess?" a familiar voice asked. He glanced up to see Mark, Josh, and Seth. "What are you doing here, man?"

Jess remained silent, though he did slowly stand up and close his book.

"You didn't want to hang with us anymore, so why are you here now?" Josh persisted.

Jess shrugged, though the motion sent a wave of pain through his shoulder. He turned and started to walk away, hands jammed into his pockets.

"Jess, wait!" Looking back over his shoulder, Jess saw Mark, and raised his eyebrows. "You can stay, if you want," he said, offering a small smile.

Jess walked back towards them and sat on the ledge again.

"What happened to you?" Seth finally spoke.

"Got in a fight," Jess said shortly.

"With who?" Josh asked.

"Just a guy." Oddly enough, they accepted this. Again, Jess was struck by the fact that people just didn't seem to notice things here.

He listened as they talked, trashing their teachers, discussing the night's plans. Just like they always had. But now, he wasn't interested.

"Are you going to come tonight, Jess?" Mark asked, pulling Jess from his reverie.

"No."

"Oh. Why not?"

Jess shrugged.

"You gonna tell the cops?" Seth asked nervously.

"No."

"You aren't a narc?"

"No."

"Then why not come?" Josh asked, lighting another cigarette.

"Don't want to." Jess took a long drag from his own cigarette. "I'm busy." _Yeah, busy getting beat up by your mother's boyfriend,_ he thought bitterly. _Pathetic._

"Fine." Josh turned away, indicating he was done trying to talk to Jess.

Jess stood up and started walking.

"You're leaving?" Mark asked. _I wish I was. I wish I was leaving here, the apartment, all of New York._

Jess didn't even credit the question with a response.


	9. Chapter 9

Jess awoke earlier than he would have liked on Monday morning. He could tell without looking at his watch, just from the mere hint of cool, pale sunlight that edged the windows and barely penetrated the dark. He looked at his watch anyway. Quarter of five.

He sighed and grabbed a book off the floor of his room, _The Sun Also Rises_ by Hemingway. The irony of choosing that book was not lost on him, seeing as he could have picked up any of the many books on the floor near his bed.

The book was well-read, by anyone's standards. The cover, though he had tried to take care of it, was curled, the corners a little frayed. The edges of the pages were soft with age, they made only the slightest sound when flicked through, whispering their story to those willing to listen. Just from looking at the book, a person could tell Jess probably knew it by heart.

Opening the novel to a random place, he started to read. There was no reason for him to start from the beginning, he already knew the story. He still read it because he appreciated the good writing.

A powerful piece of writing is one that carefully weaves intricate designs with the words, spinning the reader up in them like a spider does a fly in its web. A good book is like a spider web, in some ways. The words tangle around the reader tightly, creating a new reality, one that is indestructible. Strong like steel but soft like silk, those powerful words that perfectly expressed a moment, a feeling, a tiny nuance of a character.

As he read, Jess was stricken once again by the lack of direction he found in the characters. None of them knew where they were going or what they wanted. It was an allegory, he knew, for the lack of optimism after the First World War, and yet, it sounded much more familiar than that.

_Am I like that?_ he asked himself, remembering the way he wandered around the city day after day, looking for a place to sit and read so that he could be taken to another place altogether. He didn't know where to go. Only that it wasn't here.

Another thing about books: the good ones always hit home.

Jess set the book down and got ready to leave, though quietly. He slipped out of the apartment without leaving a note, knowing his mother and Greg wouldn't miss him.

He walked quickly to the record store, and was surprised to find it just opening when he got there.

"Jess," James Burnell said, smiling. "Good to see you."

Jess nodded.

"I wasn't expecting you so early, but I can go ahead and show you the ropes, if you'd like," the older man said kindly.

Jess nodded again. In the next half hour, he was given a basic tour of the shop, as though he hadn't ever been there. He was told how to treat customers ("You may have to say more than two words," Burnell joked). He was then shown how to use the cash register.

Burnell disappeared into the back, leaving Jess to sit at the counter, book in hand. He had just finished another chapter of _The Sun Also Rises_, when he heard Burnell's voice behind him.

"You came prepared, huh?" Jess turned to give the man a confused look.

"What?" he asked.

"The book. It's pretty slow here sometimes. It's good you thought ahead." James Burnell gestured loosely at the empty store. "Could get a little boring, otherwise, right?" He smiled.

"Does it ever get busy in here?" Jess asked.

"Every so often, but not so much as to be worth mentioning. But who knows maybe you'll attract more customers!"

"Doubt it," Jess said, looking back at his book.

"You never know," Burnell said, going into the back of the store again.

It was almost an hour before the bell above the door rang, forcing Jess to look up. A teenage girl with long blond hair that fell down her back and wide green eyes that looked him over quickly, then glanced away, already bored. Jess immediately recognized her as Madison Rain, one of the most sought-after girls in his previous high school.

She glanced around the store quickly, looking a little lost.

"Need something?" Jess asked, vaguely wondering why she wasn't in school.

"Do you have Metallica?" she asked quickly. Jess frowned; she didn't look like the type to like Metallica.

"Sure. It's right here," he said, coming out from behind the counter to lead her to it.

"Right. So, they're like, my boyfriend's favorite band, and today is his birthday, only I totally forgot, and so now I have to get him something, so I thought I could get him a CD or whatever. But I don't know anything about Metallica. Which CD should I get him?"

_Way too much information_, Jess thought darkly, pulling out one of the CDs. "This one."

"Really?" she scowled at the cover. "But it looks bad."

"It isn't."

"Right. So then, yeah, I guess I want this."

"Yeah." He led her back to the cash register where he rang her up.

"Do I know you?" she asked suddenly as she handed him some cash. "You look familiar."

She did know him. They had been in the same class for four years. They made out at a party once, when they both got completely wasted.

"No."

"You sure?"

"Yeah." He handed her the bag and the receipt. "Bye."

"Right. Bye." She turned and walked out, already seeming to forget him. Funny how people could do that, just forget someone. If he ever went back to Stars Hollow, they would probably have forgotten about him as well.

The idea of being forgotten didn't bother him very much though. It was surprisingly appealing, in some ways, because no one stared at you, or whispered about you, or even bothered with you. You were just another person. Anonymous.

He liked anonymity. He didn't need anyone to thank him for good things he did, just like he didn't want anyone to punish him for bad things he did. His opinions were all that mattered, so why should he have to listen to other people?

No, anonymity was better. Maybe when you're anonymous you don't get the good things. But you don't get the bad either, and to Jess, that seemed a good tradeoff.


	10. Chapter 10

"Jess! I didn't think you were still here!" James Burnell exclaimed, coming into the front room. "Your shift ended ten minutes ago."

Jess just shrugged and went back to his book.

"Really, you don't have to stay."

"I know."

"Well, all right," Burnell said slowly. "If you want to stay."

"Uh-huh." Hemingway's words were captivating, much more preferable than Burnell's. Footsteps told him his boss had disappeared again.

Jess had been at the store almost all day, and there had only been around five customers. It occurred to him that a business with so few customers probably wasn't doing very well, but Burnell hadn't made any mention of such a thing. For all he knew, today was just a slow day.

Secretly, he hoped just a little that every day was like this. Maybe it wasn't very good for business, but it was very good for him. The quiet was calming; it allowed him to relax and forget about what happened at the apartment, with his old friends, with Rory. He was here, they were all out there, and that was how he wanted it.

He did find it strange though, that the store didn't play any music. At this thought, Jess put down his book and walked into the back room, a dusty, scantily-furnished room where Burnell sat behind a desk, working on a computer.

"Why don't you play music?"

"You mean out in the front?" the man asked, looking up over his glasses at Jess.

"Yeah."

"We used to, until the stereo broke," Burnell replied, standing up and leading Jess out of the office to point at the sound system in the back corner. "I haven't been able to fix it."

"Huh."

"The place does lose quite a bit of atmosphere without it, I know. It's really too bad." With that, he returned to the office.

Jess, on the other hand, dropped to his knees on the floor in front of the stereo, pushing the power button and checking that there was a CD in the player. He then pressed the play button.

The machine hummed a little, then buzzed irritably, before crackling angrily. Jess pushed the stop button, but the noise only grew. Anxiously, he pressed the power button, and the stereo silenced itself once more.

He worked with the sound system all afternoon, long after his neck and back ached from bending over it, long after his eyes ached from the strain of squinting at small parts.

Finally, soft music came from the speakers around the room, the sound of the Ramones and their incredible rendition of "What a Wonderful World."

Standing and stretching, Jess went back over to the counter and picked up his book again. When Burnell came out of the office around nine, carrying a few folders under his arm, keys in the other hand, he stopped in shock.

"You fixed it?" he asked, astonished.

Jess remained silent, but closed his book.

"No one else has been able to."

"Huh."

"It must have taken you all afternoon."

"No," he said, though it had.

"Well. Even so…good job, Jess," Burnell commended, smiling.

Jess avoided his gaze. "Are you closing up, now?"

"Yes."

"Okay." He walked towards the door.

"Jess?" Jess turned to look at the man. "Do you mind if I ask how you got that black eye?"

"No." Jess said. Then he opened the door and stepped outside. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Burnell shaking his head, still smiling, at Jess' avoidance, even as he walked quickly down the sidewalk.

He liked that Burnell hadn't pushed him to answer. He had always hated it when adults did that. The way he saw it, if they got to keep things from him, he had no reason to tell everything to them. It wasn't something his boss needed to know, anyway.

The man's reaction had been interesting, though. Most people were annoyed with Jess when he said things like that, and yet, Burnell had not been. No, he had been amused. As though he didn't mind that Jess didn't want to answer, and appreciated the way he indicated as much. What was it about this man that made him so different?

_Maybe it's that he isn't forced to be around me,_ Jess thought sullenly. He thought of Luke, the way he got so frustrated. Jess wondered for the umpteenth time if he should have tried to be a little nicer to Luke. It wasn't Luke's fault he got shipped down there.

There had been only one person in Stars Hollow who wasn't annoyed by him at all times. Rory had sometimes found him irritating, he was sure, but she didn't dislike him, and generally their interactions went well.

Rory. Guilt struck him again and he stopped walking. He had never found out what had happened to her. Shouldn't he know?

He wanted to tell her how sorry he was, how he missed talking to her. He wanted to tell her that she shouldn't think that it was her fault that he left, like he knew she probably would. It was his fault.

He walked over to a nearby pay phone and picked up the device, jamming a few coins into the slot. He had to tell her. He dialed quickly.

He could have called at the apartment for free. But he didn't want her to have his number. He wanted to say he was sorry and get that off his chest, and then he wanted to forget about Rory, about Stars Hollow, about that whole year.

"Hello?" her voice sounded clearly through the earpiece. He didn't say anything. He wasn't ready to talk yet.

"Hello?" she said again, louder. And still, he wasn't ready to speak.

"Hello?" she tried again. He tried to force the words past his lips. Nothing.

_Click._ And she was gone. Just like everything else.

He placed the phone back on the hook and continued walking, studiously avoiding the darker shadows of alleyways and shady areas.

Sadly, the apartment he now lived in was in one of those darker shadows. _I was right to avoid,_ he thought forlornly. He walked slowly up the steps to their floor.

Standing outside the doorway, he took a deep breath, then twisted the knob and stepped inside to face the problems he wouldn't admit to anyone.


	11. Chapter 11

Jess lay flat on his back, staring up at the water-stained plaster of the ceiling, doing his best to ignore the aching of his body, as he thought.

He wasn't the type to get beaten up by his mother's boyfriend. He just wasn't. He was Jess Mariano, tough guy, the one who doesn't take crap from anyone. So why was he lying here with hurting ribs and bruised arms?

Jess wasn't afraid of pain. It wasn't cause for much concern because it was temporary. He wasn't afraid of what would happen to him when Greg got drunk or high. He was never afraid.

It was more that he worried about what would happen if he didn't take it. If Greg didn't smack Jess around, he might start to hurt Liz. Though, he didn't worry about Liz so much. Not when she was out drinking, or doing drugs, or whatever the hell she did all the time.

The concern he felt was more in regards to the guilt he might feel, should Liz be hurt because of him.

"Will all great Neptune's ocean wash this blood clean from my hand?" Macbeth had asked, after murdering Duncan. That was what Jess feared. Seeing that it was his fault, and not being able to undo it. Macbeth had gone mad. Jess wished to avoid that.

Maybe, just a little bit, he was apprehensive about what people would say, should they ever find out that his mother had abusive boyfriends. They would find out, if he did something about it, he was sure. Greg was a lot larger than Jess, and Jess knew he wouldn't win a real fight.

He tried to imagine what would happen. He would call the police, he supposed. Get Greg locked up, or something. Jess hated the police. They hated him first though, so he figured it was fair enough for him to return the sentiment.

But assuming he got over that, he would call the police. Or perhaps he would yell one night when Greg twisted his arm behind his back, and the residents of the apartment next door would call the police. However it went down, that tidbit was feeling a little irrelevant in the grand scheme of things.

People would know. The police cars would attract a lot of people. Mark, Josh, and Seth would show up. Mark would be too excited and whisper loudly about what was going on, smiling all the while. Josh would laugh, slowly, through the haze of intoxication. Seth would laugh at him, but fidget nervously when the cops walked past.

James Burnell would hear. He would look at Jess and say "I was afraid of something like this. It might be better for you to focus on other things, instead of the store. Maybe you can try again some other time." A polite excuse masking his real thoughts, the ones Jess would hear very clearly. "I knew something was wrong with you. Go away, before you mess up my life, too."

Liz would cry when she saw all the people, speaking in hushed voices, pointing as Greg was escorted to the car. She would ask Jess "Why? Please tell me why!" but he wouldn't answer.

Luke would be called, and he would drive up. Then he would look at Jess kindly, and tell him it was okay with him if he came back to Stars Hollow. And then Jess would feel like crying because Luke was being so nice when Jess knew he didn't deserve it, when he could see the disappointment in his eyes. But he wouldn't cry. No, he would set his jaw and harden his expression, and merely say "whatever."

The people surround him would whisper, but so loud he could hear anyway.

"Hoodlum…"

"Hooligan…"

"Bad influence…"

Jess shook himself, sending a wave of pain through his body. _You're not thinking straight_, he told himself. People wouldn't be like that. Not so openly, anyway.

Forcefully pushing such thoughts from his head, he dangled an arm down to the floor of his room and picked up the nearest book.

_The Great Gatsby._ A very battered book, read many times. He opened it to a random place, and read: "I felt a haunting loneliness sometimes, and felt it in others--young clerks in the dusk, wasting the most poignant moments of night and life."

He snapped the book shut. How appropriate that he should find that exact place, though he knew exactly why. The book had been open there many times, for long periods. It was a sentence he read often.

Jess had found that particular passage to be a bit too telling. It described him, in a way. He was lonely, and he hated it. But from it, he could find those little moments of loneliness in everyone. And he could tell the truly lonely people from those who were merely bored without company.

He wondered why exactly he was lonely. He didn't have many friends, but that was by choice. Maybe it was that people just didn't like him. He was rude, sarcastic, and just generally abrasive. But really, he didn't mind so much that people didn't like him, provided they weren't actively trying to destroy him or anything.

He couldn't recall being quite this lonely before he lived in Stars Hollow, though. Maybe he had gotten used to talking to Rory, to knowing that Luke was looking out for him.

What really clinched it, he supposed, was his mother's words to him that night.

_"Why are you letting him do this?" Jess had asked, trying to get to his feet again, shooting a look at his mother, where she sat nervously on the couch. She didn't answer. _

_"I do whatever I want, boy!" Greg yelled, shoving him to the floor again. _

_"Why are you staying with this loser?" Jess asked, earning himself a sharp kick to the ribs. _

_"Because," his mother said, her voice a little distant, strung out. "I love him." _

She hadn't said it, but Jess knew there were three more words to that sentence. It explained everything. Why she didn't stick up for Jess, why Greg was allowed to push him around. Why he wasn't asked home for Christmas, why he wasn't welcome back. Those three words, so simple, added on to that statement told it all.

"Because I love him…more than you."


	12. Chapter 12

Jess worked at the store on Tuesday and Wednesday, quickly discovering that Monday had indeed been a slow day. Not to say that the store was by any means overcrowded, but it wasn't as empty as it had been that first day he worked there.

Burnell had insisted though, that Jess take the day off on Thursday. He had seemed slightly concerned that Jess was there so much, as the job was supposed to be part time.

So Thursday morning, Jess found himself once again sitting in the park, reading.

He couldn't really focus on his book, though, as much as he enjoyed the story. His mind kept wandering to the conversation he had had with Rory on the phone the night before.

_He stood out on the street, the darkness wrapping around him, making it impossible to see what was going on around him. But he wanted to use the pay phone, just as he had the last time he called this number. _

_There was a soft click as the phone was picked up, and then loud music filled his ear. _

_"Hello?" she said, over the noise. _

_Deep breath, no turning back now. "Hi." She didn't any anything. "Hello?"_

_"Hi." She knew it was him. _

_"Is this a bad time?" What were they doing over there?_

_"Um, no. Just hold on a sec?" Rory said. He could hear her speak to someone, and then the music quieted. "Hi."_

_"You said that already." He didn't know why he pointed that out, except that he didn't like to talk on the phone to anyone, and he didn't want to have to prolong it. He wanted to do what he had to, and be done. _

_"I did. You're right. Sorry," she said, and he almost smiled. _

_"So, what's up?" _

_"Nothing. What about you?" _

_Here it was. He knew what he had to say. _

_"Nothin' much. Just hanging out…in the park, mostly." Perfect. _

_"Central Park?" Yes! She was interested, she wanted to know…_

_"Washington Square Park." She knew where to find him. _

_"Oh." He wanted more of a response than that. _

_"It's cooler." _

_"Yes," she agreed, but she sounded confused. About the park being cooler or about his reasons for calling, of that he was unsure. _

_"It's where David Lee Roth got busted." _

_"Right, right. I hope he's got it together now." So now she knew that part. It was time to end the call, but there was a little something bothering him…_

_"Sounds like you've got a party going on there." _

_"No, it's just me and my mom," she replied. _

_"Right. Okay, well, I'm gonna go. This is long distance." It was a bit too abrupt. _

_"Yeah, it is long distance." She was still confused. _

_"So, see ya." He waited; he needed to hear her say it…_

_"Yeah, see ya." _

It had gone perfectly. Jess knew Rory well enough to know that until she knew why he called, the fact that she didn't know would bother her. That was how he wanted it.

She would come, he was sure of it. He needed her to. He needed to know that she didn't hate him.

"Hi." He smiled. It had worked.

He closed his book as he turned. There she stood, looking completely out of place in her Chilton uniform. "How ya doing?"

"Good, how about you?"

"Good." She'd never know if he wasn't. "You hungry?"

What a stupid question to ask a Gilmore. "Starved."

"I know a place."

She walked next to him. They were silent for quite a while.

"I feel very urban today," she said suddenly.

"Oh yeah, the plaid just screams urban," he commented.

"I think I look like a native," Rory said, smiling.

"How well do you know Manhattan?" he asked, still mocking.

"I've been here a few times. We saw The Bangles here."

"When was that, twenty years ago?"

"It was a reunion, and they were great."

"Yeah, they're okay." Not the best, but okay.

"And a couple years ago Mom drove us in to shop, and she couldn't find a good parking place and all of the parking lots were a total rip-off, so she kept making U-turns and cutting off taxis and we were being screamed at in so many different languages that we just turned around and drove home and bought a Hummel at the curio store in Stars Hollow," she continued.

He smiled. "How very adventurous."

"I'm just saying, I'm no stranger to the Big Apple."

At this he did laugh. "You are if you're calling it the Big Apple."

"So I don't have the lingo down yet, but at least I have the attitude," she argued.

"You do, huh?"

"Oh yeah. When I was getting a locker for my backpack at the bus stop, there was this guy and he was just standing there staring at me and instead of ignoring him I just fixed him with a really withering stare," she proclaimed, clearly proud of herself.

"That I've got to see," he said.

"No." She knew he was making fun of her.

"Oh come on, let me see your withering stare."

"It's dangerous. I could hurt you."

"I've been hurt before," he said. Almost immediately, his happiness at finally talking to her dimmed a bit, as he thought of all the ways he'd been hurt before…

"No."

"I'm disappointed," he said, then changed the subject. "So your arm's okay?"

"Yeah, it looks worse than it is," she said, and he felt relieved. He had known she was okay, but still, he needed to hear her say it, needed to see it for himself. He didn't feel quite so bad anymore.

"I like this Emily chick," he said, looking at her cast. "Friend of yours?"

"She's a friend to all of us dispossessed." She was one to talk.

"So here's our lunch place," Jess said, indicating it.

"A hot dog stand?"

"Hey. I eat here every day. It's nothing fancy, but –"

"No, I love it," she cut him off. "It's perfect."

They ordered their food. Then they were silent for a few seconds. Finally, Jess started to ask Rory another thing that had been bothering him.

"So, uh…how's – ?" he asked, staring down at the money he was attempting to flatten, trying to erase the evidence that it had been crammed unceremoniously in the bottom of a jeans pocket.

"Luke?" she finished, taking pity on him.

"Yeah." He couldn't meet her eyes.

"Okay. He went fishing."

"Fishing?" He smirked a little, to hide what he was really thinking. Luke must have really been annoyed over what had happened, to have to leave and cool off.

"Yeah. He didn't catch anything, though."

"Probably used the wrong bait." That sounded a little too critical.

"Yeah, that's a common fishing blunder," Rory said awkwardly, apparently agreeing with his assessment of the comment.

"So he's good?" He risked a quick glance up at her.

"Yeah, he's good." Once again, he felt relieved at her words. He hadn't caused too much damage. It seemed as though everyone was moving on quickly, forgetting his presence easily…

"So how much time you got?" Jess asked.

"I got a bit," Rory said, smiling.

They spent the rest of the day wandering around New York together. He took her to the record store, though he didn't mention that he worked there. It was too much information. After this, she would go back to Stars Hollow, and he would go back to working at the store, and their lives would be separate. He didn't want even the store to remind him of her.

As they left the store, she asked to see his school.

"Why?"

"I wanna see where you go to school."

"I don't go there, anymore."

"Why not?"

"My records haven't been transferred yet," he lied.

"So then you will go there. And you used to. Can't I see it?" she asked, smiling sweetly at him.

"I guess," he said. _At least she didn't ask to see where I live._

He took her over there, walking past his apartment building and then a few more blocks, before stopping to point at the school from across the street.

"That's it."

"It looks…nice," she said politely, watching the students stream out of the front doors after the last bell.

"It looks like crap," Jess said. "You can say it. I don't like it either."

"It could be better," she admitted. "But it's not so bad."

"Hey, Jess, who's the chick?" Josh's slow voice called out as he walked toward them.

Jess glared at him. Rory glanced at his hardened expression, confused.

"What, you won't introduce your friend? Trying to keep her all to yourself?" Josh taunted.

"Leave it alone, Josh," Jess said.

"She one of your friends from that hick town you got sent to?" Seth asked.

"Awww, how sweet. Small town girlfriend coming to visit?" Josh said.

"C'mon," Jess said to Rory, his voice low. "You need to get back to the bus station."

The walked away quickly.

"Who were those guys?" Rory demanded, as soon as they were out of earshot.

"Jerks."

"But you know them," she persisted.

"Yeah."

"So…who are they?"

"We used to be friends," he said. "Before I moved."

"You're friends with those idiots?" she asked, frowning.

"Used to be. Not anymore."

"What changed?" He hated questions. He never knew the answers.

"A lot."

They were quiet until they reached the bus station.

"I think this one's mine," Rory said.

"Yup, sign says Boonesville," Jess said. He wished everything didn't seem so forced now.

"Excuse me, I'm so sorry to bother you," a man said to Rory. "Which way is 44th?"

"Oh, um, that way," Rory said, pointing.

"Great, thanks." The man hurried away.

"I got asked directions," Rory said, delighted, apparently forgetting the tension that had previously plagued them.

"I saw," he said, amused by her excitement.

"He took me for a native. That's so cool." She grinned.

"That's very impressive." He paused, leaning against the bus. "44th's the other way."

"Oh no." Her face fell.

"Sorry," he said, genuinely sorry for taking her happy moment.

"Oh, man, I should go find him," she fretted.

"He'll figure it out when he sees all the numbers getting bigger instead of smaller."

She seemed to accept that. "He still thought I was a native. That's cool."

"I'm your witness."

"Are you okay?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" he asked, surprised.

"I don't know."

"Well, I am."

"Okay."

"Okay."

"Well, I should go," she said, speaking into the awkward silence that had fallen.

"Okay." He watched her as she climbed onto the bus, and followed her the length of the bus as she chose a seat.

"Why did you come here?"

She opened the window. "What?"

He repeated the question. She hesitated for a long moment.

"Well –"

"I mean, you ditched school and everything. That's so not you. Why'd you do it?"

"Because you didn't say goodbye."

She was like him in so many ways. She was smart, funny, she loved books, loved music. He could talk to her for hours. And yet, this was the thing that made them most alike, and it was the thing that made him sad. They both needed closure.

"Oh. Bye, Rory."

"Bye, Jess," she said, her voice sounding as miserable as he felt. He hated himself for making her feel like that.

He turned to walk away, hearing the bus cough exhaust as it pulled out of the station, taking her back where she belonged in Stars Hollow, and leaving him here in New York, where he didn't.


	13. Chapter 13

"Who is she?" Greg demanded as soon as Jess walked into the apartment. He stood up and blocked the path to Jess' room.

"Who?" Jess asked, resigned.

"Don't be smart!" Greg yelled. "I saw you with her."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Greg took a few steps forward and shoved him hard. Jess stumbled, but caught himself.

"Don't lie to me, boy! I saw you!" He sent a fist crashing into Jess' jaw.

"Damn it!" Jess cursed, retroactively putting a hand up to protect his face. "What the hell?!"

"Said you had a job," Greg muttered, hitting Jess in the stomach, causing him to double over. "Bull. I saw you with her."

"I had the day off," Jess grunted, and Greg hit him again.

"Don't lie!" Greg threw Jess against the apartment door. "Girl in a school uniform, one of them fancy rich kids..." Another punch, and then another, and another. "Telling her lies about us, were you?"

"No," Jess said, and spat the blood from his mouth. Another blow to the side of the head, then he was grabbed by the shoulder and slung toward the center of the room, where, when he landed on the floor, he finally saw his mother, watching anxiously from the couch.

"Mom…" he said, hating the pleading tone of his voice, but was willing to take it if his mother would only help him.

She only shook her head, fear in her eyes as she glanced toward her boyfriend. Anger burned in Jess and he struggled to stand. What had Greg done to her to make her afraid?

Greg hit him again before he was even completely standing, and he collapsed back to the floor. _Damn it, get up!_

As he pushed himself up to his knees, he felt another blow to his head, one that made him see stars, darkness tingeing his vision.

Feeling dizzy, he pitched forward, catching himself before he landed face-first. A foot came from nowhere and kicked him sharply in the ribs. "Stop…" he said, hating how his voice was choked, hating that he had to ask Greg to stop.

But the large man didn't stop; he was out of control. Instead, Jess found himself caught in a flurry of kicks. He was laying on his side, and he pulled his knees to his chest, and put his arms over his head. _Make it stop, make it stop…_

Everything hurt, but it started to fade out, as though it wasn't him being beaten so badly, but someone else. He wasn't here, this was all a bad dream, he would wake up any moment and it wouldn't hurt anymore…

Abruptly, the blows stopped. Afraid of what that might mean, he didn't move. There were some words in a deep voice, but he just closed his eyes tighter.

"I said get up, boy!" Two big hands wrapped around his wrists and hauled him to his feet. Greg was trying to catch his breath, seeming to finally gain some control.

Jess stared into Greg's face, the flushed skin, the bloodshot eyes. The messy brown hair and bushy eyebrows, crooked teeth that showed when his lip curled in a sneer. "Learn your lesson?"

Jess didn't respond. Greg tightened his grip on Jess' wrists, and Jess grunted in pain.

"Answer me!" He shook Jess, hard.

"Yes," Jess said softly.

"Yes what?"

"Yes, sir," Jess mumbled. He couldn't meet the man's eyes.

"Good." Greg threw Jess from him, and the boy landed in heap on the floor. He slowly picked himself up and went into his room, closing and locking the door.

As soon as the lock clicked, Jess collapsed onto his bed, his whole body shaking. It had never been so bad before. Always before it seemed that Greg was trying to prove he had power over the situation. This time, he was unrestrained in his actions, long past being under the pretenses of teaching a lesson, though he had tried to recover himself at the end. He was an animal, plain and simple, a beast that took delight in breaking those smaller than it, proving its might to everything else.

Jess took a deep breath, biting his lip against the pain in his ribs. _Calm down. It's okay. You're okay. Calm down. _

It wasn't okay though. It was getting worse every time, and Jess wasn't sure that he could keep going like this.

_God, this is so screwed up! Why do I keep letting him do this?_ But what else was he to do?

He had nowhere else to go. What could he do? He couldn't fight Greg, he couldn't call the cops, he couldn't go back to Stars Hollow. But he sure as hell couldn't live here, not like this.

_Anything would be better than this…Anything,_ he thought, feeling the bruise forming on his jaw. This, with a mother who didn't love him, a man who beat him… _Even being dead would be better than this._

Then he shook his head. He didn't want to die. But he didn't know how to live like this. He didn't want to know.

When he had gotten to Stars Hollow, he had missed his friends in New York. Missed his old life.

It's funny, how much better things seem once they are past. Tomorrow, this beating wouldn't seem as bad as it was. Everything got better with time.

But when you go back in time, returning to a life you had left, that's when you remember how bad it could be.

Maybe he had missed New York then, but now he realized that was a mistake. He and Luke hadn't gotten along terribly well, but Luke had cared about him, hadn't hurt him. That was at least ten times better than this.

He wanted to get away from New York. Even if he was remembering Stars Hollow as better than it was, nothing could be as bad as his current situation.

Jess grabbed some headphones and put them on, trying to avoid seeing the bruises forming on his wrists, turning the music up loud. It hurt his ears, made his head pound, but it distracted him from the pain in the rest of his body, so he kept it that way.

He closed his eyes, trying to pretend he wasn't there, that he was anywhere else. And all he could think of was the apartment above Luke's diner, sitting on his bed and reading.

It reminded him of Dante's words in _The Divine Comedy_:

"There is no greater sorrow

Than to be mindful of the happy time

In misery."


	14. Chapter 14

Jess opened his eyes the next morning, suddenly wide awake. The headphones he had fallen asleep wearing played only static, the end of the CD long past. He reached up to pull them off, then stopped.

Even that slight movement hurt, causing him to freeze, just stay still, until the wave of pain was past. The morning after was always harder.

_Get up quick, like ripping off a Band-aid_, he told himself. _One, two, three._ He sat up and put his feet on the floor, pulling himself into a standing position quickly. His hand went to his side, where it hurt the most. _Damn!_

He stumbled to the bathroom and turned on the shower. As he waited for the water to heat up, he took a closer look at himself in the mirror.

Purple, blue, and black bruises decorated his torso, shoe-shaped marks on his ribs and back, fist-sized blotches on his chest. Bands of blue-black around each wrist. The bruise on his jaw was purple-red, angry and swollen, warm to the touch. His eye was again blackened. _Damn it._

He was angry, angrier than he cared to admit. He wasn't angry like he might slam-the-door angry, he was angry like he wished he could hurt someone, yell and scream and hit them until they hurt as bad as he did. The way Greg had been last night.

He froze, that thought echoing through his mind like words down a dark staircase in a horror movie, endless and confusing, messing with his mind. He wasn't Greg. He wasn't, not even close. He would never be. The mere thought scared him.

Jess looked back into the mirror, looking for the familiarity in his face, through the darkness of bruises. It was there, just barely, but it was there. He was still there.

He shook his head, wondering how he would ever explain to James Burnell. Then he frowned. Why should he have to explain? What did it matter what went on in his personal life, as long as he showed up for work?

Jess showered as fast as he could, the heat of the water helping to ease some of the ache. Afterwards, he dressed in loose jeans and a T-shirt, then checked his watch. _Damn. Late._

He rushed out of the apartment, and down the stairs. He vaguely wished the store was a bit closer, so he wouldn't have to walk quite so far, but then dismissed the thought as pointless.

Jess managed to arrive right on time, though his muscles ached from hurrying so much. He pushed the door open, the annoying ringing of the bell bringing his boss out from the back room.

"Hi, can I –" Burnell stopped when he saw who it was. "What happened?"

"Nothing."

Burnell frowned. "It doesn't look like nothing."

Jess scowled back at him. "It is."

"If you're having some sort of trouble –"

"I don't need help." His look apparently told the older man not to push the issue.

Jess went behind the counter and pulled out his book, _A Clockwork Orange_, and began to read. He sense Burnell looking at him still, but the man finally returned to the back office.

Jess glared at the pages of his book, not really reading. What gave Burnell the right to ask him questions? He showed up for work, he did what he was supposed to, pretty damn well if he did say so himself. What made the man think it was all right for him to pry into Jess' personal life?

He shook his head and tried to push it from his mind, though the annoyance lingered just a touch throughout the morning. Luckily, there were few customers.

At lunch, Burnell came out of the office, briefly. "Jess, I've got some food in the back. Why don't you eat lunch with me, today? I'd like to talk to you."

"I've got to –"

"Please."

So Jess followed the man into the office, sitting down across the desk from him.

Burnell pushed a sandwich across the desk to him. Jess just stared at it.

"Jess," the man began. "Why don't you go to school?"

The question surprised Jess. As he considered it though, the surprise was rapidly replaced by his growing annoyance.

"Because I don't."

"You're only seventeen. You should be in school, not here all day every day."

"It's fine."

"You're a smart kid, Jess. I don't want to see you throw your life away by not getting a good education," Burnell said carefully, looking a little too concerned.

The concern annoyed Jess. This man didn't know anything about him, nothing at all. He was basing his idiotic concern on the fact that Jess spent his time working instead of going to school. What about the fact that his mother's boyfriend beat him? The fact that his mother didn't do anything to stop it? The way he didn't fit in in New York, but couldn't go anywhere else.

This concern was so shallow and pointless. A pretend concern, an excuse to get rid of him. A way to make him leave, by acting as though he cared if Jess went to school. He didn't care. If he cared he would try to find out the important things, would try to help Jess.

"You want to know why I don't go to school?" Jess said sharply. Before Burnell could answer, he continued. "My uncle hasn't sent the school my transcripts, from when I was living there with him."

Burnell started to speak but Jess cut him off, angry, full to bursting with words he had never spoken.

"You know why I was living with my uncle? My mother didn't want me around after I got arrested. A little shoplifting and possession of alcohol charge was a bit too much for her to handle, what with the fact that she was already dealing with going out drinking every night with her asshole boyfriend. Didn't have time to consider anyone else."

The old man just stared at him, clearly bothered by the mention of Jess' arrest, as well as the sudden outburst.

"School though, is just so important, isn't it? School is going to make my mother stop drinking and get rid of her loser boyfriend, make my dad come back, and make everything good for me, right?" The words tasted bitter, the edges sharp like broken glass, spiraling out of control. "School's the least of my worries. But I understand why you brought it up. You want me out of here, and who can blame you, right? You don't have to say it. I'll save you the trouble. I quit." He stood up abruptly and stalked out, grabbing his book off the counter as he went.

"Jess –" The rest of the man's words were cut off by the slamming of the door.

Almost immediately, Jess regretted that. The man was just being nice, wasn't he? The same way Luke was nice to him, Rory was nice to him, Lorelai was polite to him, and he reacted in the same way he always did.

_What the hell is wrong with you?_ he asked himself as he walked toward the apartment. Why didn't he ever trust that people could be kind like that, without ulterior motives?

_You are a screw-up,_ he answered. _You are weak and pathetic._ Every time he had something good in his life, he ruined it. He got angry, he said too much, and he ruined everything.

Every aspect of his life was collapsing in on him, crushing him under the weight of the secrets he kept, the lies he told, until he could hardly breathe, until he could remember nothing but how it felt when things fell apart. And he had no one to thank but himself.


	15. Chapter 15

The apartment was empty when he finally reached it, and Jess was glad. He went into his room quickly and closed the door.

Jess supposed Greg must have some sort of job. He knew his mother didn't, so someone had to be keeping them in drinking money. Yesterday must have been Greg's day off.

_Just my luck our days off would coincide._ Then it occurred to him that it no longer mattered, because for him, now, every day was a day off.

Jess fell back onto his bed, letting the full magnitude of the day wash over him. Burnell was probably still sitting there in shock over Jess' outburst. Jess regretted that.

He already wished he hadn't said anything. He wished he still worked there. But then, he wished a lot of things.

Jess picked up _A Clockwork Orange_ and opened it, trying to focus on the book again. The words swam on the page, spinning around infuriatingly. His head ached. He shut the book and set it on the floor by his bed.

He laid very still, only the waves of pain reminding him that he was still alive. He wished he didn't have a reminder.

Everything that had happened was pressing in on him. Wrecking Rory's car, that split second was the spark that started the whole inferno. Lying to Luke, regretting it even as the words were coming out of his mouth, "It's what I want." Being hit by Greg, feeling glass crush under his fingers and then the sharp pain, everything being at arm's length as Greg kicked him. Seeing the look of hurt confusion on James Burnell's face as Jess practically bit his head off with sarcastic words sharply spoken, accusing and hateful.

He was falling, falling, falling into a deep, dark pit, into the depths of hopelessness and helplessness. Everything spun around him, laughing, taunting, telling him he deserved it.

_"Hoodlum…"_

_"Hooligan…"_

_"Bad influence…"_

A sharp knock on the door pulled Jess from his thoughts. It was six in the evening, who would be coming to see them at this time? Tiredly, he pulled himself off the bed and left his room, trudging across the living room, opening the door to find James Burnell looking woefully out of place, and even nervous.

"Hello, Jess," he said softly, fidgeting. Jess recalled writing his address on the application form. He had toyed with the idea of leaving it blank, but ultimately decided to write it down, figuring that being homeless wasn't the best way to get hired.

Jess stepped into the hallway, pulling the door shut behind him. He wrapped his arms around himself, trying to hold in the pain in his ribs.

"I wanted to talk to you."

Jess nodded.

"When I asked why you didn't go to school, I didn't mean that I wanted you to stop working at the store," Burnell began. "I didn't mean that at all. I was just worried about you."

Jess shook his head. He didn't need to hear this.

"I understand why you were angry. And I'd like to help you."

"I can't come back to work," Jess said, abruptly.

"No?"

"No."

"That's all right then. But I still want to help," Burnell said. He took a step forward, putting his hand on Jess' arm. "I didn't grow up in the best home. My father was a very strict man; he expected everything to be a certain way, and when it wasn't, he became very angry. My mother developed Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, eventually, from the stress of living in such conditions. My father then began to vent his frustrations on me."

Jess shook his head again, taking a step back and brushing the man's hand from his arm. "Why are you telling me this?" He wished he didn't have to listen.

Burnell fixed him with a penetrating stare. "I know what it's like, living the way you do. I know how hard it is. And I want you to know, there is help, if you ask for it."

"I don't need –"

"Yes, Jess, you do." Burnell smiled sadly. "You know where to find me," he said softly, then turned and walked back down the stairs.

Jess stood there for a long moment, staring after the older man, before he realized he was just standing there like an idiot, and stepped back inside.

He leaned against the apartment door, thinking. Was that why Burnell had been so kind to him? If everything was so obvious to him, was it to everyone? How did Burnell talk about stuff like that so calmly? How had it also happened to him?

Jess looked up as the door to his mother's bedroom opened and she came out. She kept her back to him, moving to the refrigerator to get a bottle of water, face turned away. He suddenly found that it bothered him. Could she not even stand to look at him? Did she feel guilty for letting Greg hurt him?

"Mom?" he asked. She set her water bottle down, and slowly turned to face him, head down, hair shielding her from view.

"Yeah?" she looked up at him. He stared openly at the bruise that had spread across her cheek, the purple color matching the bruise on his own face. _That son of a bitch._

"What did he do to you?" he asked hoarsely, shock and the beginnings of anger choking him.

"What are you talking about? I fell this morning, that's all." But she wouldn't meet his eyes. She picked up her bottle of water and walked back into her room, leaving Jess alone with his thoughts.

_That son of a bitch. _Anger burned through his veins, hot like fire. He clenched his teeth, his hands formed fists. _Damn it! _

He had taken all those punches to protect his mother, and all for nothing. It didn't work, it wasn't enough. He couldn't help.

Jess looked around, desperate for something, he didn't know what, just something, something to make it better. His eyes landed on the phone, the light on the answering machine blinking three new messages.

"_There is help, if you ask for it."_ Without thinking, he walked to the phone, picked it up, dialing blindly.

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

"Hello?"

"This is Jess." He paused. "Luke, I need help."


	16. Chapter 16

Jess knocked lightly on the door to his mother's room, then walked in. She sat on her bed, staring into space.

"Mom?"

"What?" she said, looking over at him. He went and sat on the edge of the bed.

"You need to leave Greg."

"What? No," she said, sounding surprised.

"Yes. He hurt you."

"No, he didn't."

"He hurt me," Jess said.

"He didn't mean to."

"Yes he did," Jess said firmly. "He isn't good for you, and he definitely isn't good for me. You need to leave him."

"But…I love him," she replied, looking a little sad.

"Mom, look what he does! If nothing else, you ought to at least care that he hit you!"

"He didn't mean to," she whispered.

"Yes, he did. You know he did."

"I can't leave him," she said, looking down at her hands, folded in her lap. "I just can't."

Jess shook his head disgustedly, and stood. He walked out of the room, past the door to the kitchen, into the living room, and _bam!_

A fist came out of nowhere, hitting him in the mouth, then the stomach. He doubled over, gasping for breath and spitting out blood.

"What the hell is wrong with you, boy?" Greg yelled, grabbing Jess by the shoulder and forcing him to stand upright, before punching him in the stomach again.

"Stop," Jess panted, trying to back away.

"Like hell I will," Greg said, advancing on him, throwing a few more punches.

He was wearing a ring tonight, Jess realized, as he blinked blood from his eyes. Another blow to his chest caused him to cry out.

"Shut up!" Greg shouted, another hit landing on the side of Jess' head. "Shut up!"

"Stop," Jess said again. "Please."

Greg laughed then, a cold, menacing laugh that scared Jess more than anything ever had. Greg threw more punches, harder and harder, until Jess found himself lying on the floor.

The large man stomped on his hand and wrist, and Jess swore loudly. He pulled his hands in close to him, trying to make himself as small as possible.

Greg started kicking him then, slowly at first, then over and over again, down his spine and back up, one kick to the head that brought darkness creeping into his vision. _Don't pass out, don't do it, don't, don't!_

He was afraid that if he lost consciousness, he might never get it back. He closed his eyes, afraid to see what was happening. He could hear Greg screaming, enraged, and he didn't think it would ever stop.

"What the hell are you doing?" a familiar voice bellowed, and then the kicks stopped. Jess opened his eyes, though he kept his arms up, shielding his face. He squinted and found the flannel-clad form of Luke, standing in the living room with them.

"Jess?" Luke asked, moving toward the place where Jess was lying on the floor, Greg standing over him.

"Who the hell are you?" Greg snarled, stepping over Jess' limp form to stand face to face with Luke. "This is my place. Get out!"

"If you don't leave now, I'll call the cops," Luke threatened, glaring.

"I live here!"

"Not anymore," Luke said.

Then, to Jess' horror, Greg took a swing at Luke. Luke, though, blocked the punch, and threw one of his own, knocking Greg back, where he stumbled and fell into a sitting position on the couch.

"Get out, now," Luke said, his voice hard. Greg, cradling his jaw and gasping, apparently unable to take a punch, scrambled off of the couch and out of the apartment, slamming the door shut behind him.

_It's over,_ Jess thought, as the room seemed to spin around him. _He's gone…_

"Jess!" Luke knelt next to him, gently pulling his arms away from his face. "Can you hear me?"

"Yeah," Jess said, his voice a little hoarse. He tried to sit up, but Luke held him back. "Let me up."

"Wait just a minute," he said. Jess ignored the order and pulled himself into a sitting position. Luke, afraid of hurting him worse, didn't resist much.

"Jess, what happened?"

Jess stared at him, unable to put into words everything that had happened since he left Stars Hollow, all the things that brought him to this moment. How could Luke, who had put an end to the whole thing with only one punch, understand what it was like to dread coming home every night because of the knowledge of what would happen? How could he understand feeling so weak and helpless at the hands of some drunken guy whose last name he didn't even know?

"Okay, it's okay," Luke said softly, putting a hand carefully on Jess' back. Jess suddenly realized he was shaking. "C'mon, let's get you off the floor."

Luke carefully helped Jess to his feet, helped him walk over to the couch where he sat down. Jess wrapped his arms around himself, staring at the floor.

"Is your mom here?"

Jess nodded.

"Okay. I'm gonna go talk to her for a minute." Luke walked across the apartment, his heavy footsteps the only sound Jess could hear over the roaring of his thoughts.

_What happens now? Luke fixes the problem, and then he leaves? Do I stay here with Liz? I don't want to stay here. I can't stay here. _

Everything hurt. It was as though every injury he had ever gotten had come back for an encore performance. He took a deep breath, trying to stop shaking, and his ribs throbbed angrily. He closed his eyes and tried to stay perfectly still.

The footsteps came back toward him, then the couch next to him sank down. "Jess?"

He opened his eyes and looked at Luke.

"Let's go," Luke said.

"Where?"

"The hospital," Luke said, seeming to think that this was the obvious answer.

"No."

"You have to, okay? You're bleeding."

Jess reached up to touch the side of his head, where Greg had kicked him, his hand coming away stained red.

"It's not too deep."

"Look, Jess, it would make _me_ feel a lot better if you would get checked out, okay?" Luke stood up.

Jess stared at him. "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why would it make you feel better?" What a strange thought, that something like that would matter to Luke.

"Because, it will. C'mon." He held out a hand to help Jess up.


	17. Chapter 17

Luke led Jess to his truck, then drove to the hospital, silent. Jess hated that he was going there, but he couldn't see a way around it. He didn't feel up to arguing with Luke. He didn't feel up to much of anything.

"This wasn't the first time, was it?" Luke asked suddenly.

"No."

"Why didn't you call sooner?"

Jess stared out the windshield at the darkness.

"I mean, I've been calling you. You never called me back. You could have told me what was going on."

Jess still didn't say anything.

"Was that the first time he hit Liz?"

Jess nodded.

"That's why you called, isn't it?"

Jess nodded again, swallowing hard. He felt like he was going to cry, but he couldn't.

The emergency room was crowded when they arrived. Luke pointed at two empty chairs, indicating that Jess should go sit there, and then got some forms from the desk. He returned to sit next to Jess, filling in the blanks on the forms.

Jess watched, mesmerized by the careful way his uncle wrote in information Jess didn't even know about himself. He avoided looking anywhere else. He hated hospitals.

Luke handed Jess the pen and the clipboard, pointing at a blank. "Sign."

Jess gripped the pen, wincing at the weird pain that moved into his wrist. He slowly, deliberately signed his name.

"I need to know where it hurts." Jess looked up at Luke.

"What?" Jess asked. Luke pointed at the section on the form devoted to that very question. "Oh."

"Just name some stuff."

"My chest."

"Okay."

"Head. Wrist." Luke nodded. "Is that enough?"

"For now, I guess so." Luke wrote those down, and stood up to return the forms.

They waited for a long time. It was after midnight, already, and Jess was tired. He could no longer think very clearly, just in short, little phrases and half-thoughts. The only clear thoughts that came to his mind were how much he hated hospitals and how tired he was.

The fluorescent lights hurt his eyes, so he closed them. He imagined his bed, but not the one at Liz's place. He imagined his comfortable bed at Luke's, the perfect darkness of the room because there were no street lights outside the windows, the quiet of the apartment because no one drove around at night in Stars Hollow.

He was dozing off, the pain finally a little less concentrated, a little further away. He wasn't really asleep, just drifting.

"Jess?" Luke said softly, in his ear. Jess opened his eyes, surprised to find himself leaning on Luke's shoulder. He sat up quickly, then winced.

A nurse stood before him, smiling kindly. Jess looked up at her.

"If you'd come with me," she said, gesturing at the wheelchair in front of her.

"I don't need –" he began, but Luke cut him off.

"Just sit in the chair, Jess, okay?" Jess moved slowly and sat in the wheelchair.

Luke stood, looking awkward. "Do you want me to come?"

"No."

Luke sat back down, casting a nervous glance at the man next to him, who was holding a bloodstained towel around his hand. Luke looked like he hated hospitals as much as Jess did.

Jess was wheeled away, placed in an examination room. He sat on the table in there, arms wrapped around himself. This hospital was very cold, he noticed.

"Jess Mariano?" A man's voice said from the doorway. Jess looked up at a man with salt and pepper hair, and very rectangular glasses. He nodded.

"I'm Dr. Wilder," the man said. "I'll be doing your examination."

Jess nodded again. Dr. Wilder sat down on the little rolling chair next to the table.

"Can you tell me what happened?"

Jess shook his head, slowly, biting his lip, trying not to show how much it hurt.

"It would be easier if you did," the doctor said. Seeing the look on Jess' face, though, he dismissed that fact. "Well, all right. Let's get started."

Jess spent the next half an hour being poked at, listening to the doctor make tut-tut noises, watching illegible notes be scribbled on a clipboard. He was informed that he did not need stitches, something he could have told them. He did, however, need X-rays.

He was moved to the X-ray room, where he was forced to lay on a freezing cold table. They took pictures of his chest and of his wrists, both of them. After that, he was taken for a CT scan.

Finally, he was taken back to the examination room he had started out in. He lay down on the examination table, closing his eyes against the bright lights.

All of his muscles felt tense. He clenched his teeth, anxious. The worst part of being in a hospital was the part where they left you alone, and you didn't know what was happening.

The door opened, and Luke came in. "Hey."

Jess blinked at him. Luke sat down in the chair next to the table. Jess relaxed a little, closing his eyes again.

He was dozing off again. It was almost two in the morning, and he was beyond exhausted. More so than he usually would have been. This night had been draining.

A thought occurred to him, and he opened his eyes again, then sat up. "Luke?"

"Yeah," Luke said, sounding as tired as Jess felt.

"You should go home."

"It's okay."

"You have to open the diner in the morning," Jess said.

"Lorelai is gonna do it for me. I called her while you were with the doctor," Luke said. "Caesar has tomorrow off."

"Did you tell her…you know, why?" Jess asked, awkwardly.

"No." Jess nodded gratefully.

The door opened then, and the doctor entered.

"Mr. Danes," he said, nodding at Luke. "Mr. Mariano."

Dr. Wilder sat down on the rolling chair again. "I have your scans back," he began. "You have three broken ribs."

Luke glanced at Jess briefly, then looked back at the doctor.

"Also, the right wrist is fractured," Dr. Wilder said. "I'll put a cast on it, which will have to stay on for a couple weeks."

Jess scowled at him. He opened his mouth to say something, but Luke spoke over him.

"Is that it?"

"Yes," Dr. Wilder said. "Other than that there are just some deep bruises. There doesn't appear to be a concussion. I'm going to prescribe some mild painkillers. And Jess should take it easy for a few days, maybe even a week."

"Thank you," Luke said. He pocketed the prescription the doctor handed him.

"You're very welcome."

Jess glared at the both of them, but didn't say anything. He put up little resistance to being taken to get his arm plastered up, he only nodded at the doctor's reminder to take it easy. In fact, he didn't speak again until they were in Luke's truck, driving back to the apartment.

"Luke?"

"Yeah?"

"What now?" He was tired, achy, and completely miserable. And yet, he wanted there to be something else. He didn't want to go back to his mother's apartment and go to sleep. He wanted…something else.

"What do you want now?" Luke asked, simply.

There it was again. That wanting thing. What did he want? He knew what he didn't want. But what did he want?

It finally came to him, what he wanted, what he had wanted the whole time. For his entire life, he had felt lost, as though he was drifting through places, a ship without an anchor. He had told himself it was better not to be tied down to anything.

It wasn't. He didn't want to drift. He didn't want to feel like he had nowhere to run to when he was in trouble, nowhere to go to be safe. Knowing what he didn't want finally presented him with what he did want. He wanted a home.

"I want to come back."

Luke turned and stared at him for a moment, before seeming to realize that staring at the passenger while driving was not a good idea.

"Back to Stars Hollow?"

"Yes."

"To live in an apartment with me?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes." He had never been so sure of anything in his life.

"Why?"

"I – I just want to come back."

"I didn't think you liked Stars Hollow," Luke said.

"I didn't think I did either."

"So why do you want to come back?"

"Because…it's better than here."

"You know what people told me when I said you were coming here to live with me? They told me I was crazy, they told me I was insane, they told me to start writing letters to Jodie Foster – but I ignored them. I was so sure that I knew what I was doing and then you showed up and you know what happened? You proved them right."

Jess looked down at his knees.

"And now you're sitting there, and you have this cast on your arm, and you aren't rude and sarcastic." Yes, Jess' appearance was quite pathetic, but he didn't want to bother with it, and if it helped convince Luke, then all the better. "You aren't acting anything like the kid who left Stars Hollow after wreaking so much havoc and chaos."

Jess looked up at Luke, hopeful.

"Things are going to have to be different," Luke said finally.

"I know."

"They're going to tell me that I'm insane. This time, do me a favor, don't prove them right."


	18. Chapter 18

Luke parked the truck outside the apartment building once again. Jess followed Luke up the stairs and into their apartment.

Liz, who was sitting on the couch when they opened the door, jumped up and ran over to them, wrapping her arms around Jess.

"My poor baby, are you okay?" she asked, even as he made a small, pained sound in reaction to her squeezing his broken ribs.

She let go, finally, and he put a hand to his side. "I'm fine."

"Good, good," she said idly, looking over at Luke, then.

"Mom?" Jess asked.

"What, baby?"

"I want to go back to live with Luke." He watched as her face fell, as confusion and hurt filled her eyes.

"Why?" she asked in a very pitiful voice.

"I just…I like it there," he said lamely.

"You don't like it here?" she asked.

"No."

"Why not?" She looked close to tears, and yet, the stupidity of that question was so frustrating.

"Why would I?" he demanded. "Why would I want to stay here where your boyfriend beats me up every night? Why would I want to stay with you, when you don't even care enough to stop him?" Jess avoided Luke's eyes at this admission.

She started to cry then. "Jess, I'm sorry. I'm sorry!"

"If you're sorry, then let me go with Luke!"

"I can't. You have to stay here," she said, wiping at her eyes.

"Why?" he asked.

"I need you."

"I need to be somewhere else! Don't you care what I need?"

She started to answer, but he cut her off. "No. Everything you do is about you. What about what I need?"

"Jess…"

"If you're sorry for all of this, if you care about me at all, then let me stay with Luke!" he exclaimed, waving an arm for emphasis, though it hurt.

Still crying, she nodded. "Okay. Okay."

That was it, then. He could go back to Stars Hollow. He nodded, shortly, then looked at Luke. "I'll go get my stuff."

He went into his room. He pulled out his bag and began to throw things into it. Most of his clothes were still at Luke's, so he didn't bother with many of them. He did, though, bring as many books as he could, as well as a stack of CDs, and his headphones.

When he returned to the living room, his mother was gone, back into her room, and Luke was standing there, waiting for him.

"She was tired," Luke said, trying to excuse Liz not saying goodbye. Jess didn't reply.

They walked back down to street, where they climbed into the truck, Jess' bag somehow fitting on the floorboard without too much difficulty.

Jess leaned against the window, completely exhausted. After everything that had happened that night, it was a miracle that he was still awake at all.

Luke had classic rock playing softly in the truck, the familiarity of it calming. Jess closed his eyes, his mind wandering, drifting, until he was asleep.

_"What the hell are you doing?" Luke yelled, running into the room. Jess took advantage of Greg's distraction and scrambled out of the way. _

_Greg quickly got over the shock of a guy breaking into the apartment. He threw a punch at Luke, and Luke fell back, but quickly recovered. He swung at Greg, but Greg dodged, and then hit Luke again. _

_It became an all-out fight, then, the two men locked in battle, punching and kicking, whatever they could do to hurt the other. Luke, though, was no fighter, and was beginning to look a little worse for the wear. _

_"Stop," Jess croaked. "Stop!" _

_Another punch, and Luke was left lying on the floor, as Greg walked over to wear Jess stood, shaking with fear. _

_"What do you care what happens to him? You called him, didn't you? This is your fault!" He hit Jess again, and the boy sank to the floor. Jess stared at his uncle, lying there, completely still. His fault. _

_A few sharp kicks, but he couldn't take his eyes off Luke's unconscious form. He had pulled someone else into the mess, made it Luke's problem too. Why couldn't he take care of it on his own? _

_"Pay attention!" Greg yelled, and Jess looked up at him, finding his own reflection in the blade of a knife. _

_"No…" he whispered. Greg laughed derisively. _

_"Look what you did to that guy. You don't deserve to live." With one swift motion he slid the knife into Jess' skin…_

"No!" Jess yelped, sitting up too fast. Immediately everything hurt so bad he nearly passed out. His breath came in huge gasps that hurt his ribs, his arm felt much too heavy, his whole body shook.

The truck stopped moving, and a hand was placed gently on his shoulder. "Jess?"

Jess looked at his uncle, eyes wide, the remnants of his nightmare dancing through his mind. He shook his head, hard. "No…"

He felt his breathing hitch. No, he wouldn't cry, he couldn't. He blinked rapidly.

Luke moved his hand to Jess' back, rubbing slow, careful circles, trying to help Jess calm down.

Jess took a deep breath, trying to gain some control. His ribs throbbed, and that made it all the worse.

He was scared, and he didn't know what to do about it. He had all this fear, washing through him like an icy current. He didn't know what to do with fear like that.

Luke handed him a bottle of water, already opened. Liquid sloshed out of the top of it, so hard was Jess' hand shaking. Luke took the bottle back.

"I…" Jess tried, but he didn't know what to say.

"It's okay," Luke said quietly. Then, he reached over with his other arm, pulling Jess toward him and holding him close.

It was as though Luke was absorbing all the fear and hurt and tension from Jess. The shaking slowly stopped, gradually he could breathe easily again. When Luke finally let him go, he felt oddly empty, as though the memories of everything that had happened had been drained from him, and he was left with only himself.

"I'm sorry," he said softly.

"It's okay," Luke said again. "You ready to keep going?"

Jess looked out the windshield, realizing Luke had pulled over to the side of the road, to help him through his little break down. "Yeah."

"We're almost to Stars Hollow. About half an hour away, probably," Luke said, answering his unasked question.

"Is…is my –" Jess' voice was still oddly strained.

"Your bed is still there, all your stuff is where you left it," Luke said, glancing over at him.

Jess nodded. "Thanks."

They rode in silence for a couple minutes, then Luke spoke again.

"You can talk to me, if you want to. Or not, that's okay too. I just wanted you to know that…you can talk to me."

"I know."

Jess broke the silence after a couple minutes.

"I lied to you."

Luke looked pained. "Already?"

"No, before."

"About what?"

"When I said I wanted to go back to New York. I lied." Jess refused to meet his uncle's eyes.

"Why?"

He thought about that. "I thought it would be easier."

Luke nodded.

"It wasn't," Jess informed him.

"I know."


	19. Chapter 19

When Luke finally parked the truck in front of the diner, Jess was feeling very apprehensive. He didn't want to walk through the diner, have everyone see him, not like this.

"You ready?" Luke asked.

Jess shook his head, but grabbed his bag and got out of the truck.

Luke opened the door of the diner and waved Jess through. Jess cast a quick glance around, realizing it was the time of that mid-morning lull. Too late for breakfast, too soon for lunch.

Nevertheless, at the sound of the bell over the door, Lorelai ran out from the back room.

"Hi – oh my God!" she interrupted herself. "Jess – Luke – what _happened?_"

"Just a minute," Luke said to Lorelai, and followed Jess up the stairs.

The apartment was exactly how he left it, neat and ordered, but still comfortable. Jess stood in the middle of the room, unsure of what he was supposed to do. He was dead tired, but he had this feeling that there was something he was supposed to do before he went to sleep.

Luke walked past him, into the little kitchen, beginning to open and close cabinets.

"Are you okay?" Lorelai's voice spoke softly from behind him. Jess turned slowly to look at her, then nodded. It occurred to him that she seemed to have forgotten that he broke her daughter's arm.

Luke put a bowl on the table, then, to Jess' surprise, poured some Frosted Flakes into it, then some milk. Luke looked up and motioned for Jess to come sit down.

"You need to eat something, so you can take some medicine," Luke said. Jess stared at the cereal. He remembered there had been a time when he basically lived off of Frosted Flakes.

Luke walked over to the other side of the apartment, where Lorelai stood. Jess could hear her firing questions at his uncle, not giving the man a chance to answer before she asked another.

He ate his cereal quietly, listening to their hushed conversation. They were trying not to be heard, but they weren't doing a great job of it.

"Luke, what happened to him?" Lorelai demanded.

"It's a long story," Luke sighed. "Liz got another loser boyfriend."

"You mean her boyfriend –?"

"Yeah."

"And Liz just let him?"

"Looks like it."

"God. Well, is he okay?" What an odd question coming from her.

"Yeah."

"Doesn't look like it."

"He's just tired."

"Have you talked to him?"

"Yeah. That's why he's here."

"Is he staying?"

"That's what he wanted."

"Makes sense," Lorelai said.

"His mom didn't want him to come," Luke said in an even quieter voice, sounding bothered.

"Are you kidding?"

"No. She was upset that her boyfriend was gone."

"What happened to him?"

"I made him leave."

"Good. That was the right thing to do."

"I know, but Liz doesn't see it that way."

The two of them finally noticed Jess watching them. Luke came back over to him.

"Here's your medicine," he said, handing Jess a couple of pills. He must have stopped at a pharmacy while Jess was asleep. "The doctor said it'll make you pretty drowsy."

Jess nodded and swallowed them quickly. He stood up, carrying the cereal bowl over to the sink. He started to wash it, remembering that it had always bothered Luke when he didn't wash his dishes, but Luke stopped him.

"I'll get that, Jess."

Jess stood there, feeling a little unsure of what to do.

"You should get some rest," Luke said, apparently realizing why Jess was just standing there. Jess nodded. He hated being so tired he couldn't even think.

He went into the bathroom to change, studiously avoiding looking at all his injuries. When he went back out into the apartment, Lorelai was gone, and Luke was standing by the door. He walked across the room and sat on his bed, waiting for Luke to say why he was waiting there.

"Lorelai left."

Jess nodded. Suddenly, a thought occurred to him. "I thought she couldn't cook."

"She can't." Brief pause. "She brought Sookie with her."

"Oh."

"Right. So, anyway, they left, so now I need to…" Luke gestured loosely towards the door.

"Sure." Jess nodded again.

"If you need anything…"

"Yeah."

"Okay." Luke hesitated for a moment, then left, leaving Jess alone.

Jess lay back on the bed, trying unsuccessfully to get comfortable. Slowly, though, the pain was being replaced by that hazy feeling that comes with pain meds.

The apartment wasn't very light today, he noticed, as it was cloudy outside. If he was a character in a book, a cloudy sky might be foreshadowing to some horrible event that was yet to come. As it was, he was grateful, because had it been very nice out, a lot more people of Stars Hollow would have seen him. There would probably have been a hundred people out, doing whatever it was crazy, small-town people did all day. Kind of like that day when he had first moved here.

It bothered him a little that Lorelai knew what had happened. It meant Rory would know, too. Probably everyone would know soon. It wasn't like it wasn't obvious.

People would probably feel sorry for him. He hated that. At the same time though, it might make them a little quicker to forgive him for the things that happened before. That, at least, was one good thing.

Luke seemed to feel a little sorry for him. Or no, that wasn't quite it. Worried about him, maybe? Protective?

What a funny thought, that Luke would be protective of his nephew. And yet, there was no other way to describe it, the way Luke was so careful around him. Thinking back, Luke had always seemed that way, possibly excluding the time he pushed Jess into the lake.

It made Jess a little sad to think about how much grief he had caused for Luke, especially considering how nice Luke was being.

He was falling asleep, he realized, no longer in pain, no longer worrying about anything. He was perfectly relaxed.

The last thing he did before letting himself fall into sleep was resolve to help close up the diner later that night.


	20. Chapter 20

When Jess finally woke up from a deep, dreamless sleep, the apartment was completely dark. Very silent, too. There wasn't even the familiar hum of his stereo after it had gotten to the end of a CD. He must have been really exhausted, he thought, to fall asleep without music.

He sat up slowly, surprised to find that someone had draped a blanket over him while he slept. His ribs hurt a little, but nothing like they had before. He suddenly really loved the idea of painkillers.

Glancing at his watch, he realized it was after eight at night. That was the longest he'd slept since he had left Stars Hollow. He actually felt a bit better, more alert, at any rate.

He walked down to the diner without changing clothes. It had always mystified Luke how much more comfortable Jess was sleeping in loose jeans and a T-shirt than in something more akin to pajamas, but then, Jess thought, Luke was confused by a lot of things about his nephew.

The diner was empty, save for Luke, who stood behind the counter refilling the ketchup bottles. The man looked utterly exhausted, and Jess suddenly realized his uncle had pulled an all-nighter to help him.

"Hey," Jess said, coming behind the counter.

"Hey. Do you want something to eat?"

Jess shook his head. "Do you need help?"

"No. You're supposed to take it easy."

"Working here isn't exactly strenuous."

Luke rolled his eyes. "Take a break for a few days, okay?"

Jess nodded. "Sure."

"So…do you need anything?"

"Nope."

"Okay."

Jess walked towards the door. "I'm gonna go out for a bit."

"Jess?"

"Huh?"

"She's still with Dean." Luke gave him a long look. "They got past the whole car accident, and they seem to be doing really good."

"Who said that's where I'm going?"

"Aren't you?"

"No."

"No?"

"No," Jess lied. He had to know…

"Okay. My mistake."

"I'll be back in about an hour," Jess said.

"Okay."

He left the diner, out into the cool night air. There was no one around, once again. He vaguely wondered if perhaps Luke had scared them all away from the diner.

He walked a few blocks, then stopped at a pay phone. Funny, how he always found himself using these.

He put some change in, dialed a familiar number, listened to the ringing.

"Hello?"

"Rory?"

"Jess?" He was sure she had already known he was back.

"Could you meet me at the bridge?" he asked. He had to see her, had to explain everything to her. She was the only person who really got him, it wasn't fair to make her wonder.

"Sure. Are you okay?"

"Sure."

"Okay. I'll be there in a few minutes." He hung up.

It only took him a couple minutes to get to the bridge. He sat down, wrapping his arms around himself.

It was a little too much like the last time he was here, he thought. It was cold, his body ached, it was so dark he could hardly see anything.

Life, he thought, is tricky like that. There are certain instances you think will never repeat themselves, but then they do, and you're left considering the things that change and the things that don't.

Footsteps on the end of the bridge, another same thing, but they weren't the same footsteps.

Rory sat down next to him, and he looked at her.

"Oh my God," she breathed, and too late he remembered how he looked. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. It looks worse than it is." He paused. "Did she tell you what happened?"

"Yeah, I just didn't…didn't expect _this_," she said. She tentatively raised a hand as if to trace a finger over one of the bruises, but drew back, clasping her hands together tightly in her lap.

"It's not a big deal."

"You could have told me," she said, looking down at the water, hair falling forward to hide her face. "When I was in New York. You could have told me."

Jess thought for a moment. "I didn't want you to know."

"Why not? I could have helped you."

"This isn't me, Rory. I'm not that guy who gets beat up by his mom's boyfriend. That isn't me."

Rory looked over at him again, her eyes sad. "I'm sorry, Jess."

"Don't be."

"I knew something was wrong, I knew it," she said.

"You always could tell," he said softly.

She stared at him for a moment, scrutinizing, her blue eyes so intense he had to look away. He was sure he knew what she was thinking.

The last time he had been sitting here on this bridge, he thought everything was over. He was leaving Stars Hollow, ostracized, running away from what he had done. It felt as though everything he had experienced in Stars Hollow was coming to an end, and he was going back to a place where he didn't have even a chance at a future.

Now though, as he sat on the bridge with Rory, he had the strange feeling that things were just beginning. He had experienced a lot, too much really, but he was here, now. It was as though, for the first time in his life, he was right where he was supposed to be.

She was thinking about that had happened, but that wasn't what he wanted to focus on. He wanted to think about what could happen, what would happen next.

"Jess?"

"Yeah?" He didn't look up.

A warm hand touched his cheek, turning his head toward her, and then she kissed him.

She pulled back after a moment. "Does that hurt?" she asked worriedly.

"I can take it," he said, smiling, and kissed her again.


	21. Chapter 21

Jess walked back to the diner slowly, enjoying the night air, his own happiness threatening to spill over.

_"What does this mean?" he finally asked her. _

_"I – I don't know," she said, starting to look worried. He hated that he made her look like that. _

_"Are you going to stay with Dean?" he asked, his voice hollow. _

_"I – I don't know. No. No," she said, with some finality. _

_"No?" _

_"No." She grabbed his hand, the one that wasn't in a cast. "I'll break up with him." _

_"Yeah?" _

_"Yeah. I promise," she said, and she kissed him gently, as though he was something treasured, never to be broken. _

The diner was empty when he got there, closed but still unlocked, so he went upstairs into the apartment to find Luke watching TV.

"Hey," Luke said, looking up as Jess walked in.

Jess nodded at him, carefully shrugging out of his jacket.

"Your mom called," Luke said.

"Already?"

"Yeah. She said her boyfriend came back."

"Is she okay?" Jess asked, feeling his heart sink.

"Yeah, yeah, she's fine."

"Good."

"The guy was arrested."

"What?"

"Someone called the police," Luke informed him. "Liz was pretty upset about it."

"Of course," Jess said bitterly. "Who called?"

"She said it was some guy you know…from a record store, or something?"

James Burnell. That man knew a lot more than he let on.

Jess walked over to the phone, dialing quickly. It rang twice, then there was a click as someone answered.

"Hello?"

"Mr. Burnell? This is Jess."

"Jess! It's good to hear from you."

"Yeah. I uh, I wanted to thank you," Jess said awkwardly, turning his back to Luke, who was watching him curiously.

"Of course, Jess. Are you all right?"

"Yeah. I moved in with my uncle again." Jess could almost hear Burnell smiling at him. "You were right."

"Hmm. So were you, Jess."

"What?"

"You knew you needed help, and you asked for it. I'm proud of you."

"Uh…thanks," Jess said, again feeling awkward. "So, uh, I should go."

"All right." A brief pause. "If you'll give me your address, I'll mail you your paycheck."

Jess rattled it off, then said goodbye and hung up.

"Who was that?" Luke asked, as Jess kicked off his shoes and left them in the middle of the floor.

"The guy I worked for in New York." Jess walked across the apartment and lay down on his bed, suddenly very tired again.

"You had a job?"

"Yeah. Record store."

"Oh."

They were both quiet for a moment. Luke had turned off the TV, and the apartment almost hummed with silence.

"Luke?" His voice sounded funny, filling up that silence.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks for…everything." It was a weird thing to say, it seemed to him. He had never been the overly grateful type of guy. But, he thought, he couldn't be overly grateful for this. Luke had saved him.

This time, in Stars Hollow, he wasn't going to mess things up for everyone. He could entertain himself without stirring things up too much.

Luke smiled slightly, and nodded. "You're welcome, Jess."

Jess reached into his bag, pulling out a book and his headphones.

"What are you doing?" Luke asked, getting up from the couch.

"Getting ready to sleep," Jess said, putting the headphones on.

"You can't sleep in those. You'll strangle yourself."

"I didn't want to bother you with the stereo."

"Believe it or not, I actually kind of missed it," Luke said.

"Really?" Jess smirked, not really believing it. "Luke, you may be joining the dark side." He reached over and turned on the music.

Luke winced. "Just not too loud, okay?"

"Sure, Luke. Whatever you say." Luke went over to his side of the apartment, and Jess heard the mattress creak as Luke lay down on it.

He opened his book, then dropped it onto the mattress, letting it close and come to rest, face up.

Reading had always been an escape for him, a way to get away from the things that bothered him. But right now, he didn't want to get away from his real life.

He thought of Rory, of her promise to break up with Dean, of her choosing him. He thought of living with Luke, being in Stars Hollow with all the quirky townspeople who sometimes drove him absolutely crazy. The townspeople who would probably have an emergency town meeting tomorrow once they realized he was back. Taylor would probably have a heart attack when he heard the town hoodlum had returned. He smiled a little at that thought. He wouldn't cause trouble for Luke, but he could still have some fun...

He thought of Rory's words before this whole mess. _"You can do anything you wanted, you can be anything you wanted."_

All he wanted to do was live in Stars Hollow, be with Rory, be far away from his mother and her insanity.

_"You can do anything you wanted, you can be anything you wanted."_ This time, he would.

**-The End-**

Author's Note: That's it, everyone! I know a lot of you wanted me to keep going, but I'm sorry, I just couldn't. I hope you don't hate me too much. I thought that this particular place had a nice symmetry with the beginning of the story. Some people have suggested doing a sequel, and I like that idea quite a bit. So don't worry, this won't be my last Jess-centric fic. But this is it for the time being. Thanks to all of you for reading and reviewing, and I do apologize for all the times I didn't get to answer your reviews. My life got a bit busier than I expected when I started this story. Also, thanks to all of you who convinced me to make this into a full story, as it was originally intended to be a oneshot, inspired by a video on youtube. I like what it turned in to, so again, thank you. I take suggestions, so if there is anything in particular you want to see a fiction about, let me know! So, watch for another fic from me. And thanks again for reading!

procrastin8or951


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